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HOW TO BE A LADY: 



BOOK FOR GIRLS, 



CONTAINING USEFUL HINTS ON THE 
FORMATION OF CHARACTER. 



HARVEY NEWCOMB, 

AUTHOR OF THE " YOUNG LADY'S GUIDE," ETC 



TENTH EDITION. 

BOSTON: 
GOULD AND LINCOLN, 

59 WASHINGTON STREET. 

1852. 









Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1846, bj 

Gould, Kendall, and Lincoln, 

fa the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of 

Massachusetts. 






STEREOTYPED AT THE 
BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY. 



PREFACE. 



" Preface! I never read a preface, it's 
so prosy" said a bright-eyed, sprightly lit- 
tle girl; — "I want to get at the story." 
Her object in reading was to be amused. 
If she had desired to be benefited by what 
she read, she would have perused the Au- 
thor's preface, in order to understand why 
he wrote the book. The " Young Lady's 
Guide " was intended for a class of female- 9 , 
who have attained some degree of matUr 
rity of character, and who are supposed 
already to have entered upon a religious 
life. The success of that work has led 
the Author, for several years, to contem- 
plate the preparation of another, for a 
younger class of females. Having daugh- 



PREFACE. 



ters of his own, and having been many 
years employed in writing for the young, 
he hopes to be able to offer some good ad- 
vice, in the following pages, in an enter- 
taining way, for girls or misses, between 
the ages of eight and fifteen. His object 
is, to assist them in forming their charac- 
ters upon the best model ; that they may 
become well-bred, intelligent, refined, and 
got)d ; and then they will be ladies, in the 
highest sense. This book covers substan- 
tially the same ground occupied by another 
work for boys, issued simultaneously with 
it. Some parts of both are identical ; while 
crther parts are entirely different. If it shall 
be the means of benefiting one immortal 
mind, the Author will be abundantly re- 
warded. 

January, 1847. 



CONTENTS. 



I. On Childhood and Youth 7 

II. Nature and Objects op Education.. .. 12 

III. Piety, as the Spring of Action and 

Regulator of the Soul 17 

IV. Filial Piety 24 

V. Treatment of Brothers and Sisters 

AND OTHERS IN THE FAMILY 37 

VI. Behavior at School 45 

VII. Behavior at Table 51 

VIII. Behavior at Family Worship 56 

IX. Private Prayer 59 

X. Keeping the Sabbath 64 

XI. Habits 83 

XII. Education of the Body 100 

XIII. Knowledge of Household Affairs... 109 

XIV. Education of the Heart 121 

XV. Education of the Mind 145 

XVI. Reading 155 

XVII. Writing 161 

1* 



6 CONTENTS. 

XVIII. Indolence 165 

XIX. On doing one Thing at a Time....^ 168 

XX. ON FINISHING WHAT IS BEGUN V. . . 170 

XXI. Choice of Society and Formation of 

Friendships 172 

XXII. Ornamental Education 176 

XXIII. On Amusements 181 

XXIV. Government of the Tongue 192 

XXV. On the Art of agreeable and prof- 
itable Conversation 198 

XXVI. Inqjjisitiveness 206 

XXVII. On the Importance of being able to 

say No 209 

XXVIII. On being Useful 212 

XXIX. On being Contented 216 

XXX. Union of serious Piety with habit- 
ual Cheerfulness 220 



HOW TO BE A LADY. 



CHAPTER I. 

ON CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH. 

In one sense, very young persons are apt to 
think too much of themselves — in another, not 
enough. When they think they know more than 
their parents and teachers, or other elderly peo- 
ple, and so set up to be bold and smart, then they 
think too much of themselves. It used to be 
said, when I was a boy, that " Young folks think 
old folks are fools; but old folks know young 
folks are fools." Although I would be very far 
indeed from calling you fools, because you have 
already acquired much knowledge, and have the 
capacity for acquiring much more, yet, with 
reference to such knowledge as is acquired by 
experience, and in comparison with what there is 
to be known, there is " more truth than poetry " 



8 THE GREAT ELM. 

in the old adage. But, when young people sup- 
pose it is of no consequence what they do, or 
how they behave, because they are young, then 
they do not think enough of themselves. Should 
you see a man riding with a little stick for a 
whip, you would not think his stick worth your 
notice at all ; but the biggest tree that ever I 
saw grew from a little willow stick that a man 
rode home with, and then planted in his garden. 
You have sat under the beautiful shade of a 
great elm-tree ; and when you have looked upon 
its tall, majestic trunk, and its great and strong 
branches, with their ten thousand little limbs 
waving gracefully before the wind, you have 
been filled with admiration and delight. " What 
a mighty tree ! " you say; " I wonder how long it 
has been growing." But the seed of that tree, 
when it was planted, many years ago, was no 
bigger than a mustard-seed ; and if you had seen 
the little tiny sprout that your grandfather was 
tying up with so much care, when it was a few 
years old, you would have wondered that a man 
should think so much of such an insignificant 
twig. But, if he had let it grow up as it began, 
without any care, it never would have been the 
stately tree it is now. That was the most im- 
portant period in its life, when it was a little twig. 



LITTLE THINGS. 



It began to lean over, and grow crooked and 
ugly. If it h,ad not been trained up then, it 
would have continued to grow worse and worse ; 
and, after it had grown to be a tree, it could not 
have been straightened at all. Now, you are, in 
some respects, like this little twig. You, too, 
have just begun to be ; and now your character 
is pliable, like the young tree. But, unlike it 
your being is to have no end. Instead of grow- 
ing a few hundred years, like a great tree, you 
are to live forever. And every thing that you 
do now must have an influence in forming your 
character for your whole being. In this latter 
sense, you cannot think too much of yourself; 
for you are the germ of an immortal being. 

Did you ever stand by the shore of a placid 
lake or pond, in a calm, sunny day, and throw a 
little stone into its smooth, silvery waters? Did 
you observe how, first, a little ripple was formed 
around the place where it struck, and this was 
followed by a wave, and then, beyond, another, 
and another, till the whole surface of the water 
was disturbed? It was a very little thing that 
you did; and yet it agitated a great body of 
water. So it is with childhood and youth ; the 
most insignificant action you perform, in its in- 
fluence upon your character, will reach, through 
the whole period of your existence. 



10 BEING LADYLIKE. 

It will not do for you to say, " It is no matter 
how I behave now ; I shall do differently when I 
am a lady." What you are while you are a girl, 
you will be when you become a woman. " But, 
would you have a little girl act like a woman]" 
Not precisely. But I would have her act like a 
lady. Not to put on airs — not to put herself 
forward, and take the place of a woman before 
she is big enough to fill it — not to feel above 
labor, and despise those who perform it — not to 
look down with scorn upon every thing that is 
common — not to treat with contempt those who 
cannot dress as well as herself, or who have not 
seen so much of style and fashion. Those who 
behave so are pseudo-ladies. A true lady would 
despise such meanness. To be a lady, one must 
behave always with propriety ; and be civil, cour- 
teous, and kind, to all. To treat any human 
being with rudeness, would show a want of 
breeding of which no lady would be guilty. 
But the romping, roisterous miss, who pays no 
regard to propriety of conduct, will never be a 
lady. You will not, however, misunderstand me. 
Do not suppose that I would have you dull and 
mopish, never manifesting any gayety of spirit or 
playfulness of conduct; but, in all these things, 
I would have you behave with strict regard to 
propriety. 



THE FAIRY WORLD. H 

Very young persons sometimes live in an ideal 
world. What they imagine in their plays seems 
real. They have a little fairy world in their 
minds, in which they live more, and take greater 
delight, than they do in what is real and true. 
To this I do not object, within certain bounds; 
but often it becomes a passion, so that they lose 
all relish for sober, every-day life. For such 
creatures of fancy real life is too dull, and what 
concerns realities, too grave. Perhaps they will 
not like my book, because it treats of things true 
and real. But I beg them to consider that, 
through the whole of their being, they are to be 
concerned chiefly with realities; and therefore, 
to do them substantial good, we must speak to 
them of things real, and not of those airy things 
.that belong to the fairy land. But real things 
are, truly, more interesting than the creations of 
fancy. The things of fancy interest you more 
only because they appear new and less common. 
A person who has always lived in the country, 
and is used to sitting under the wide-spreading, 
shady tree, would be more pleased with the pic- 
ture of a tree than with a tree itself. But one 
brought up in the city would cast away the pic- 
ture, and hasten to enjoy the cool shade of the 
beautiful tree. A castle in the air may please 
the fancy ; but you want a real house to live in 






12 



CHAPTER IT. 

NATURE AND OBJECTS OF EDUCATION. 

Perhaps some of my readers, when they see 
the title of this chapter, will think only of con- 
finement in school, of books, and of hard study, 
and so be inclined to pass over it, as a dry sub- 
ject, which they have so much to do with, every 
day, that they have no wish to think of it in a 
moment of relaxation. But I beg them to stop a 
minute, and not throw me away, among the oki 
school-books, till they have heard me through. 
I assure them that I use the term education in a 
far different sense. I think it means much more 
than going to school and studying books. This 
is only a small part of education. Mr. Walker 
defines education, " The formation of manners 
in youth." But this is a very imperfect defini- 
tion ; and I am afraid there may be found some 
who would even doubt whether education has 
any thing to do with manners. Mr. Webster 
gives a better definition : — " Education compre- 
hends all that series of instruction and discipline 
which is intended to enlighten the understand- 



FORMATION OF CHARACTER. 13 

ing, correct the temper, and form the manners 
and habits of youth, and fit them for usefulness 
in their future stations ; " — all, in fact, that is 
necessary to make a man or a woman — a gentle- 
man or a lady. • 

The original root, from which the word edu- 
cation is derived, means to lead out, to conduct, 
to form, to fashion, to beat out, to forge. It 
was used with reference to the forging of an in- 
strument out of a piece of metal, or the chisel- 
ling of a statue out of a block of marble. This 
furnishes a good illustration of my ideas of edu- 
cation. It is a process by which a character is 
formed out of rude or unwrought materials. It 
is not confined to mere school learning. A per- 
son may be very learned, and yet not half edu- 
cated. There are many steps in the process. 
The ore must first be dug up by the miner; 
then smelted at the furnace, and the metal sepa- 
rated from the dross ; then wrought into bars at 
the foundry; afterwards forged by the smith; 
and then, finally, polished by the finisher. The 
marble must first be quarried, or blasted out of 
the ledge; then cut into blocks; then trans- 
ported ; then wrought with the hammer and chis- 
el; and finally, polished. This gives a good 
idea of education. It, is not merely what is done 
to form the character in school; but it comprises 



14 FORMATION OF CHARACTER. 

all the influences which are exerted upon the 
young, in training them up and forming their 
characters. Education begins in the family. It 
is carried forward in the school. It is affected, 
for good or for evil, by the influence of public 
worship, lectures, books, amusements, scenery, 
companions, &,c. In all places and circun> 
stances, something is doing towards the . form- 
ation of character. 

Yet there is one important respect in which 
education, or the formation of character, differs 
essentially from the process described in this 
illustration. The block of marble, or the piece 
of metal, is passive ; the whole process is per- 
formed upon it by another. But no person can 
be educated in this way; every one that is 
educated must be active. You may be drilled 
through all the schools, and have every advan* 
tage at home and in society; and yet, without 
your own active cooperation, you can neier be 
educated. But, if you are determined to be edu- 
cated, you will turn every thing to some account 
Every thing will be a school to you ; for you will 
Make contributions to your stock of knowledge 
from every object you see ; and by seeking to 
act discreetly, wisely, and correctly, in every 
place, you will be constantly forming good 
habits. Like the little busy bee, you will suck 



SELF-EDUCATION. 15 

honey from every flower. You will commune 
with your own heart upon your bed, and exercise 
your powers of thought in useful meditation. 
You will converse with God in your secret place, 
and seek wisdom of Him who has promised to 
give liberally to those that ask. In company, 
you will be more ready to hear than to speak ; 
and you will never meet with any so ignorant 
but you may learn from them some useful les- 
sons. You will exercise your mind upon every 
person and object you meet. You will study 
philosophy in the fields, by the brooks, on the 
hills, in the valleys, and upon the broad canopy 
of heaven. It has been well observed, that the 
difference between a wise man and a fool is, that 
one goes through the world with his eyes wide 
open, while the other keeps them shut. 

You will perceive, then, that your education 
is continually going on, whether you think of it 
or not. Your character is constantly forming. 
It is your business to keep out of the way of bad 
influences, and submit yourself to the moulding 
of the good. Keep in mind the great truth that 
you are forming a character for eternity. Some 
years ago, there were found on the banks of the 
Mississippi River the tracks of a human being, 
deeply imprinted in the solid rock. These 
tracks were made in the soft clay, which in time 



16 FOOT PRINTS. 

became hardened, and formed into stone; — now 
the impression is immovable. You now re- 
semble this soft clay. Every thing with which 
you come in contact makes an impression. But, 
as you grow older, your character acquires solid- 
ity, and is less and less affected by these influx 
ences, till at length it will be like the hard stone, 
and the impressions made upon you at this sea- 
son will become confirmed habits. 

All the impressions made upon your character 
ought to be such as will not need to be removed. 
Washington Allston, the great painter, had been 
a long time at work on a most magnificent paint- 
ing. He had nearly completed it, when his keen 
eye discovered some defects in a portion of the 
piece. He hastily drew his rough brush over 
that portion of the picture, intending to paint it 
anew. But in the midst of his plans, death seized 
him, and his painting remains, just as he left it 
No other person can carry out the conception 
that was in his mind. If you allow wrong im 
pressions to be made upon your forming charac- 
ter, death may meet you with his stern mandate, 
and fix them forever, as immovable as it left the 
rough print of the coarse brush upon Allston's 
canvass. 



17 



CHAPTER III. 

PIETY, AS THE SPRING OF ACTION, AND REGU- 
LATOR OF THE SOUL. 

A watch, to one who had never seen such a 
piece of mechanism before, would be a great 
wonder. It is an object of much curiosity to the 
natives of savage and barbarous tribes, visited 
by the missionaries. It seems to speak and 
move, as though instinct with life. I have read, 
somewhere, of a poor savage, who, seeing a 
white man's watch lying on the ground, and 
hearing it tick, supposed it to be some venomous 
reptile, and, with a stone, dashed it in pieces. A 
watch is an object of no less wonder to a child. 
Children are full of curiosity, as my readers well 
know. They wish to examine every thing they 
see — to take it in pieces, and see how it is 
made. I dare say my readers remember the 
time when they sat on their father's knee, and 
modestly requested him to show them the little 
wheels of his watch. 

If I could sit down with my young friends, 
and take my watch in pieces, I would teach them 
2* 



18 THE WATCH. 

a useful lesson. I would show them how a 
watch resembles a human being. There is the 
case, which may be taken off, and put by itself, 
and still the watch will go as well as ever. In 
this respect, it is like the human body. Death 
separates it from the soul, and yet the soul re- 
mains, with all its active powers. It still lives. 
The inside of the watch, too, resembles the soul. 
It has a great many different parts, all working 
together in harmony — a great many wheels, all 
moving in concert. So the soul has a great 
many different powers or faculties, all designed 
to operate in concert with each other, as the 
understanding, the judgment, the conscience, the 
will, the affections, the memory, the passions, 
desires, &/C. ; and each one of these has a 
part to act, as important for the man as the 
several wheels and springs of the watch. If 
every part of the watch is in order, and in its 
proper place, it will keep exact time ; but, if one 
wheel gets disordered, it will derange the whole. 
The secret power that moves the watch is un- 
perceived. If you examine, you will see a large 
wheel, with a smooth surface, round which is 
wound a long chain, attached to another wheel, 
with ridges for the chain to run upon. Inside 
of the first-named wheel is the main-spring, 
which, by means of the chain, moves the whola 



THE BALANCE-WHEEL. 19 

machinery. The will is the main-spring of 
the soul. By a mysterious, invisible chain, it 
holds all the powers of the soul and body at its 
command. Not only the operations of the mind, 
but the motions of the body are controlled by 
the will. 

But, if there were no check upon the main- 
spring of the watch, it would not give the time 
of day. It would set all the wheels in rapid mo- 
tion, and in a few moments the watch would 
run down. To prevent this, there is a balance' 
wheel, which turns backwards and forwards, by 
means of a fine spring, called the hair-spring, 
and so keeps the whole machinery in a regular 
motion. To this is attached a little lever, called 
the regulator, which, by a gentle touch, works 
on this delicate spring, so as to move the balance- 
wheel faster or slower, as the case may be, to 
make the movement exact and regular. 

Now, if there were no checks on the will, it 
would run on impetuously in its course, without 
regard to consequences. And this we often see 
in persons called wilful, self-willed, headstrong. 
Children are often so ; if let alone, their stub- 
born will would lead them to rush on headlong to 
their <£wn destruction. Without meaning to be 
very accurate in these illustrations, I shall 
call judgment the balance-wheel. This is the 



20 SHE REGULATOR. 

faculty which perceives, compares, and decides, 
keeps the mind balanced, and prevents its run- 
ning to extremes either way. 

The hairspring and regulator of the watch 
I shall compare with conscience. A very slight 
touch of the regulator moves the hair-spring, and 
gives a quicker or a slower motion to the balance- 
wheel. But, if the watch is out of order, often- 
times the movement of the regulator has no effect 
upon it. So, when the soul is in order, a very 
slight touch of conscience will affect the judg- 
ment and regulate the will. But often, the soul 
is so much out of order, that conscience will have 
no effect upon it. 

But who touches the regulator of the watch ? 
There is nothing in the watch itself to do this. 
The power that moves the regulator is applied to 
it. So, the conscience is moved. The Word of 
God enlightens the conscience, and the Spirit of 
God applies the word. And this brings me to 
the point which I had in my mind when I began 
this chapter. What a poor thing a watch is, 
when it is out of order. It is of no use. A 
watch is made to keep the time of day ; but, 
when it is out of order, it will keep no time. 
Or, if it is in order, and yet not regulated, it 
will not keep the right time. 

Now until the heart is changed by the grace 



THE SPRING OF ACTION. 21 

of God, the soul is out of order. It does not 
answer the purpose for which it was made. The 
will is wrong ; the judgment is wrong ; the con- 
science is wrong. And, whatever cultivation 
may be bestowed upon the mind, it will not act 
aright. In the very beginning, then, you want 
piety, as the main-spring of action, and the reg- 
ulator of the soul. Without this, you are not 
prepared to begin any thing aright. Indeed, 
without it, you have no sufficient motive to 
action. You seem to be toiling and laboring 
and wearying yourself for nothing. But piety 
towards God gives a new impulse to the mind. 
When you set out to improve your mind, if you 
have no piety, the object to be gained by it is 
very small. It can secure to you no more than, 
perhaps, a little additional enjoyment, for the 
brief space you are to continue in this world. 
But piety opens to you a wide field of useful- 
ness in this life, and the prospect of going for- 
ward in the improvement of your mind as long 
as eternity endures. It must, therefore, give a 
new spring and vigor to all the faculties of the 
soul. It does more. It regulates the powers 
of the mind, and the affections of the heart, and 
gives a right direction to them all. 

I would persuade you, then, as the first and 
great thing, to seek God. Remember what 



23 THE FOUNDATION OF CHARACTER. 

Christ has said, — " Seek ye first the kingdom of 
God and his righteousness, and all these things 
shall be added unto you." Here is the promise 
that you shall have all else that is needful, if 
you seek God first. Yield your heart to him, 
and have his kingdom set up there. Let him 
rule in your heart, and devote yourself to his 
service, and he will supply all your need. This, 
also, will give a right direction to all your facul- 
ties, and lay a good foundation of character. 
But, without it, you will be like a watch without 
a balance-wheel or a regulator ; you will be fit 
neither for this life nor that which is to come. 
And, it is of the utmost importance that you 
should become pious now, while you are young. 
If you would form a good character, you must 
have a good foundation laid at the beginning. 
Nothing but this can make a good foundation. 
All your habits ought to be formed and settled 
upon religious principles. Religious motives . 
should enter into all your efforts to improve 
your mind and cultivate your affections. And, 
should you neglect religion now, and afterwards, 
by the grace of God, be led to devote yourself 
to him, you will find it hard and difficult to 
overcome the wrong habits of mind and conduct 
which you will have formed. 

Piety, then, is the first *hing to be considered, 



PIETY THE FIRST THING. 23 

in the formation of character. And remember, 
also, that you are forming character for eternity ; 
and that your whole being, through a never end- 
ing existence, is to be affected by the character 
which you form now in your childhood and youth. 
If you lay the foundation of your character now 
in the love and fear of God, it will rise higher 
and higher, in excellence, beauty, and loveli- 
ness, for ever and ever. But if you lay the 
foundation in selfishness and sin, and build ac- 
cordingly, it will forever be sinking lower in 
degradation and deeper in wretchedness. 



24 



CHAPTER IV. 

FILIAL PIETY. 

Next to your duty to God comes your duty 
to your parents-; and you can never form aD 
excellent, amiable, and lovely character, unless 
the foundation of it is laid in filial piety, as 
well as in piety towards God. Solomon says to 
the young, " Hear the instruction of thy father 
and forsake not the law of thy mother ; for 
they shall be an ornament of grace unto thy 
head, and chains about thy neck." Nothing will 
make you appear so lovely in the eyes of others 
as a dutiful behaviour towards your parents; 
and nothing will make you appear so unamiable 
and unlovely as a disrespectful, disobedient car- 
riage towards them. No ornament sits so grace- 
fully upon youth as filial piety; no outward 
adorning can compare with it. 

Filial 'piety calls into exercise feelings to- 
wards your parents, similar to those which piety 
towards God calls into exercise towards him; 
such as esteem and veneration of his character, 
love to his person, confidence in his word, sub* 



GRATITUDE. 25 

mission to his authority, and penitence for of- 
fences against him. When the heart is hab.'tu- 
ated to the exercise of these feelings towards 
parents, it is prepared the more readily to exer- 
cise them towards God. The promises which 
God has made to those who honor their parents, 
and his threatenings against those who dishonor 
them, are similar to those which he has made 
respecting honor and obedience to himself. You 
owe it, therefore, to God, to exercise filial piety, 
because he has required it, and because it is 
one of the means he employs to cultivate piety 
towards himself. Gratitude, also, should lead 
to filial piety, as well as to piety towards God ; 
for what God is to man, only in a lower sense, 
the parent is to his child. Your parents are, 
under God, the authors of your being. The 
greater part of parents' lives is spent in rearing, 
supporting, and educating their children. For 
this they wear out their strength in anxious care 
and toil ; they watch beside the bed of their 
children when they are sick, with tender solici- 
tude and sleepless vigilance ; they labor to pro- 
vide for them. But good parents are, most of all, 
anxious that their children should grow up intel- 
ligent and virtuous, pious and happy. There is 
no being but God to whom children are so much 
indebted as to a faithful parent; and almost al. 
3 



26 HABIT OF SUBMISSION. 

the blessings that God bestows upon them come 
through their parents. 

Filial piety has great influence on future char- 
acter. One who has never been in the habit of 
submitting to others, will always be headstrong 
and self-willed; and such a character nobody 
loves. You cannot always do as you please ; and, 
if such is your disposition, you will always be 
unhappy when your will is crossed. You will 
be unwilling to submit to necessary restraints, 
and this will irritate, and keep you in misery; 
for you will never see the time in your life when 
you will be so entirely independent of others 
that you can have your own way in every thing. 
Even the king on his throne cannot do this. 
But, if you have always been in the habit of 
submitting to your parents, these necessary re- 
straints will be no burden. If, then, you would 
be respected, beloved, and happy, when you 
grow up and take your place in society, you 
must honor your parents. Cultivate the habit 
of submission to their authority ; of respectful 
attention to their instructions; and of affection 
and reverence to their persons. These are the 
habits that will make you respected, beloved, 
and happy. But as God has joined a curse to 
parental impiety, so he makes it punish itselt 
And thus you will find that it is generally fid- 



FEELINGS TOWARD PARENTS. ~i 

lowed with the most dreadful consequences. Of 
this I might give many painful examples ; but 
the narratives would swell my book to an im- 
moderate size. 

The wh^le duty of children to parents, is ex- 
pressed by God himself in one word — honor. 
This word is chosen, with great felicity, to ex- 
press all the various duties of children toward 
their parents. There is a great deal of meaning 
in this little word, honor. 

Do you ask, " How shall I honor my pa- 
rents ? " In the first place, you must honor 
them in your heart, by loving and reverencing 
them, and by cultivating a submissive, obedient 
disposition. It is not honoring your parents, to 
indulge an unsubmissive, turbulent spirit. To 
be angry with your parents, and to feel that their 
lawful commands are hard or unreasonable, is 
dishonoring them. The authority which God 
has given your parents over you is for your 
good, that they may restrain you from evil and 
hurtful practices, and require you to do what 
will be, in the end, for your benefit. When they 
restrain you, or require you to do what is not 
pleasing to you, they have a regard to your best 
interests. To be impatient of restraint, and to 
indulge hard feelings toward them, is doing them 
great dishonor. If you could read the hearts of 



28 HONORING PARENTS IN WORD. 

your parents, and see what a straggle it costs 
them to interfere with your inclinations, you 
would feel differently. But these rebellious feel- 
ings of yours are not only against your parents, 
but against God, who gave them this authority 
over you. 

Children also honor or dishonor their parents 
by their words. You honor them, by addressing 
them in respectful language, and in a tone of 
voice indicating reverence and submission, giv- 
ing them those titles that belong to their su- 
perior station. An example of this we have in 
the answer of Samuel to what he supposed the 
call of Eli, — " Here am I," — a form of speech 
used by servants to their masters, and implying 
attention to what was said, and a readiness to 
execute what was commanded. But parents are 
dishonored, when their children answer them 
gruffly, or speak in a sharp, positive, angry, or 
self-important tone; or when they neglect to 
accompany their address with the usual titles of 
respect, but speak out bluntly, " Yes" or " No" 
This shows the state of the heart. And I think 
the reason why it is so difficult, in these days, to 
teach children to say, "Yes, sir," " No, ma'am," 
&,c., is, that they do not feel in their hearts the 
respect which these terms imply. You will per- 
ceive, by this remark, that I have no respect for 



ATTENTION TO INSTRUCTION, 29 

thb notion which prevails, in some quarters, that 
these expressions are not genteel. 

Children likewise dishonor their parents, when 
they answer back, and argue against their com- 
mands, or excuse themselves for not obeying. 
It is as much as to say, they are wiser than their 
parents — which is doing them a great dishonor. 
To speak to them in disrespectful, reproachful, 
or passionate language, or to speak of them or 
their authority in such language to others, is 
also a great offence against their honor. Under 
the law of Moses, God punished this offence in 
the same manner that he did blasphemy against 
himself: — "He that curseth his father or his 
mother shall surely be put to death." This 
shows what a great offence it is in his sight. 

Another way in which you honor your pa- 
rents is, by giving respectful attention to their 
instruction and counsels. God has committed 
your instruction and training to them ; and when 
they teach or advise you according to the Scrip- 
ture, their instructions are the voice of God to 
you. If you despise their instruction, you cast 
contempt upon God, who speaks through them, 
and who says, " My son, hear the instruction of 
thy father, and forsake not the law of thy moth- 
er." It is very natural for children to wish to 
follow their own inclinations. The impetuosity 
3* 



30 CONFIDENCE IN PARENTS 

of youth would hurry them on, heedlessly, in the 
high-road to ruin. And, often, they despise the 
wholesome instruction and advice of their pa- 
rents, as only designed to interfere with their 
pleasures, and abridge their enjoyments; while, 
in truth, their parents look beyond mere pleasure, 
to that which is of greater importance. They 
look upon these things in the light which age 
and experience has given them. If you were 
going to a strange place, in a way with which 
you were not acquainted, and should meet one 
that had been that way before, you would put 
confidence in what he should tell you of the way, 
and follow his directions. Your parents have 
passed through the period of life on which you 
are now entering, and they know the way. You 
will do well to confide in them, and abide by 
their instructions. If you neglect to do so, you 
will be sure to get into difficulty. The path of 
life is beset, on every side, with by-paths, leading 
astray ; and these by-paths are full of snares 
and pit-falls, to catch the unwary, and plunge 
them into ruin. Your parents have become ac- 
quainted with these ways, and know their dan- 
gers. If they are good people, and understand 
their duty to you, they will warn you against 
them ; and it will be the height of folly for you 



OBEDIENCE. 31 

to disregard their warnings. Multitudes, by 
doing so, have rushed heedlessly on to ruin. 

You must honor your parents, also, by a 
prompt and cheerful obedience to their lawful 
commands. I say lawful, because no one ought 
to obey a command to do what is positively 
wrong. If a wicked parent should command 
his child to break the Sabbath, to lie, or to steal, 
or to break any of God's commands, it would 
be the child's duty to refuse, and meekly submit 
to the punishment which the parent, might in- 
flict. It is not often that such things happen 
among us ; but our missionaries in Constantinople 
have related two instances that are in point, 
Two little Armenian girls had learned to read, 
and obtained from the missionaries some ideas of 
Christian morality. A person knocked at the 
door of their house, and their father, not wishing 
to see him, told one of them to go and tell the 
person that he was not at home. " That would 
be telling a lie," said the daughter. " What 
then 1 " said the father ; " it is a very little 
thing. You have only to say that I am not at 
home." " But, father," she replied, " the Bible 
says it is wicked to tell lies, and I cannot tell a 
lie." He was angry, and called his other daugh- 
ter, and told her to go. She replied, " Father, 
I cannot, for it is wicked to lie." These children 



32 PROMPTNESS. 

did right in refusing to obey such a command 
But in no other case, except when told to do 
what is wrong, will a child be justified in refus- 
ing to obey. 

Obedience must be prompt and cheerful. 
Your parents are not honored, when obedience is 
delayed to suit your convenience ; nor when you 
mswer back, or try to reason against your pa- 
rents' commands, or plead for delay, that you may 
tost finish your own work. A parent who is 
honored will never have to repeat the same com- 
mand. Some children are bent on having their 
>wn way, and attempt to carry their point by 
ho wing their parents that their way is best ; 
yhich is the same as saying to them that they 
* re more ignorant than their children. Neither 
13 sullen obedience honoring your parents. Some 
children, who dare not disobey their parents, 
will go about doing what is required of them 
with great reluctance, with perhaps a sullen 
expression of the countenance, a flirt, an angry 
step, or a shm of the door, or some other show 
of passion. Such conduct is a grief to parents, 
and an offevce against God, who will not count 
that as obv^'ence, which is not done cheerfully. * 
But if yon truly honor your parents from the 
heart, yoa vill not wait for their commands. 
You wii! to always ready to obey the slightest 



ABSENCE OF PARENTS. 33 

intimation of their wishes. It is a great grief to a 
parent, when, out of respect to his child's feel- 
ings, he has expressed his wish, to be obliged to 
add his command, before the thing will be done. 
But filial piety never appears so amiable and 
lovely as when it anticipates the wishes of pa- 
rents, and supersedes the necessity of expressing 
those wishes in advice or commands. 

If you honor your parents in your heart, 
you will pay an equal regard to their counsels 
and commands, whether they are present or ab- 
sent. If you cast off their authority as soon as 
you are out of their sight, you greatly dishonor 
them. Such conduct shows that you do not 
honor them at all in your heart, but obey 
them only when you cannot disobey without 
suffering for it. But if you keep their authority 
always present with you, then you will do them 
great honor ; for you show that they have suc- 
ceeded in fixing in your heart a deep-seated 
principle of reverence and affection for them. 
If you truly honor your parents in your heart, 
you will obey them as well when they are absent 
as present. The parents' authority and honor 
are always present with the good child. 

Children, likewise, honor or dishonor their 
parents in their general behavior. If they are 
rude and uncivil, they reflect dishonor upon their 



34 A RIGHT HEART. 

parents; for people say, they have not been 
trained and instructed at home. But when their 
behavior is respectful, correct, pure, and amia- 
ble, it reflects honor upon the parents. People 
will judge of the character of your parents by 
your behavior. Are you willing to hear your 
parents reproachfully spoken of ? No, your 
cheek would glow with indignation at the person 
who should speak ill of your father or your 
mother. But you speak evil of them, in your 
conduct, every time you do any thing that re- 
flects dishonor upon them in the eyes of others. 
The blame of your conduct will be thrown back 
upon your parents. 

But the true way to honor your parents, at all 
times and in all circumstances, is, to have your 
heart right with God. If you have true piety of 
heart toward God, you will show piety toward 
your parents ; for you will regard the authority 
of his commandment, and delight in doing what 
will please him. The fear of God, dwelling in 
your heart, will lead you to reverence all his 
commands, and none more continually and con- 
scientiously than the one which requires you to 
honor your parents. Every thing that you do 
for them will be done, " not with eye-service, 
as men-pleasers, but with good will, doing ser- 
vice as to God, and not to man." 



A BLACK SPOT. 35 

Filial piety adds a peculiar charm to the fe- 
male character; while the want of it, in fe- 
males, makes them appear like monsters. Dis*- 
obedience, or the want of proper respect and 
reverence to parents, is so contrary to the gen- 
tle nature of your sex, that it makes them appear 
very unlovely. This defect needs but to be seen, 
in a girl or a young lady, to spoil all her attrac- 
tions. No matter how beautiful she is — this de- 
fect will be a Mack spot on her pretty face; no 
matter how much she knows — her knowledge, 
if it does not lead her to honor her parents, 
only " pufFeth up ; " no matter how genteel she 
may be in her behavior to others — the first step 
in gentility is, respectful and obedient carriage 
toward parents. True gentility comes from 
gentleness of heart ; but there can be no gen- 
tleness in that female heart which dishonors her 
parents. No matter with how much elegance 
and taste she may decorate her beautiful form — 
this defect will make her appear worse than the 
most deformed person, clad in tattered garments 
made up of dirty old shreds and patches. Nor 
will it be confined to childhood and youth; — 
there is, perhaps, nothing that has a more im- 
portant bearing upon the future character of 
children and youth than their treatment of 
their parents. God has set a mark upon it — a 



36 DEFORMITY. 

good one, upon filial piety, but the mark of 
Cain upon filial impiety. This latter will stick 
to you, like a deep, broad scar upon your pretty 
face, or a permanent deformity in your naturally 
fine form. But a quick perception of propriety, 
in regard to the respect due to parents ; with a 
constant watchfulness to show attention, and to 
anticipate their wants, will adorn a young lady, 
in the view of all beholders, more than all the 
finery, and jewels, and other ornaments, that can 
be heaped upon her. It will make her appear 
more beautiful than the finest form that was ever 
beheld, or the most comely countenance that was 
ever reflected in a mirror 



37 



CHAPTER V 

TREATMENT OF BROTHERS AND SISTERS, AND 
OTHERS IN THE FAMILY. 

The happiness of a family depends very much 
on the conduct of the daughters. They can 
make home sweet and pleasant. If they are 
sweet-tempered and amiable, kind and obliging, 
they will always make it sunshine about them. 
But, if they are peevish and fretful, selfish and 
quarrelsome, they will make home as cold and 
cheerless as a north-east storm. To make home 
a pleasant, sunshiny place, the family must be 
governed by the golden rule. If the daughters 
govern themselves by it, they will be able to shed 
about the fire-side an air of cheerfulness and 
benignity, that will charm every one who comes 
within the circle of its influence. 

If you are the eldest sister, your situation in 
the family is one of considerable importance and 
responsibility. Your conduct and example will 
have a great influence upon your younger broth- 
ers and sisters. But you must guard against 
making too much of this distinction, and ex- 
4 



3S ELDEST SISTER. 

pecting too much deference to be paid to you on 
account of it. You will be tempted to be over- 
bearing and tyrannical in your demeanor to- 
ward them. You must guard against this. 
Your situation in the family, though it entitles 
you to some deference and respect, yet does not 
give you any authority ; and therefore you must 
maintain it by the arts of persuasion and kind- 
ness. All attempts to domineer over your young- 
er brothers and sisters, will only lead them to 
treat your pretensions with contempt. But if 
you speak kindly to them, and show yourself 
ready to oblige them, and help them out of their 
little difficulties, you will acquire an influence 
over them that will be better than authority. It 
is said that an elephant may be led by a single 
hair ; but I need not tell you how vain must 
be any attempt to drive him. Be always good- 
natured, gentle, and kind. Never speak in a 
cross tone, nor with an assuming air, and never 
command them. By such means, you will secure 
their affections, which will bind them to you with 
a silken cord. And, if you never lead them 
astray, you will also secure their confidence, to 
strengthen this cord. Then you may lead them 
by it at your pleasure. 

If you are a younger sister, you must pay 
gome deference to your brothers and sisters older 



ANGELS OF PEACE. 39 

than yourself. If you have an older brother, 
always treat him respectfully and confidingly. 
Endeavor to secure his affections and confidence, 
so that he will be your guide and protector, 
whenever you need. Be kind and gentle to- 
ward him, always yielding to his wishes, when- 
ever you can do so with propriety ; never setting 
up your own will against his, for the sake of 
having your own way; and be not particular 
about your own rights. Never behave pettishly 
toward him, nor find needless fault with him 
A sister's power over her brothers lies in her 
gentleness and sweetness of temper. If you al- 
ways show an amiable, sweet, loving disposition, 
they will love you, and seek to gratify your 
wishes. But, if you attempt to carry your point 
by contention, they will shun you, as one who 
only interferes with their enjoyment. 

Make a friend and confidant of your eldest 
sister. Consult her wishes, and yield to her, 
when any difference arises between you. 

And, in general, sisters should be angels of 
mercy and peace in a family — gentle, kind, 
affectionate, tender, and good-natured, toward 
all. Make it an invariable rule never to con- 
tend ; and if you see the beginning of strife, 
always be the peace-maker — act the part of a 
mediator, by offering your services to bring 



40 GENERAL BEHAVIOR. 

about a good understanding between those that 
are at variance. Never raise your voice so high 
as to give it the appearance of harshness. Sup- 
press the first risings of angry feeling, remem- 
bering that " anger resteth in the bosom of fools.' ' 
Never speak unkindly to your brothers or sis- 
ters ; and if they speak unkindly to you, do not 
suffer yourself to be irritated, and to answer 
back in an angry tone, but show your superiority 
by controlling your feelings. Be helpful to all 
about you. If your little brother comes in cold, 
or wet, or tired, assist him to a seat, take off his 
outer garments, warm his hands, and make him 
comfortable. If your little sister is grieved, or 
in trouble, do not speak harshly to her, or 
reproach her for crying, but try to soothe her 
feelings, by diverting her attention. Never 
teaze your brothers or sisters. You do not like 
.o be teazed; then do not teaze others. Be 
courteous. Do not speak coarsely or roughly, 
as ill-bred children do to each other; but be a 
lady, and treat your brothers and sisters like little 
gentlemen and ladies. Employ no coarse jokes 
or vulgar jests. Be careful of their feelings. 
Never do any thing, needlessly, to interfere with 
their plans, to cross their feelings, or to hold 
them up to the ridicule of others ; and play no 
tricks upon them. Such things will diminish 



COMPLAINING OF EACH OTHER. 41 

their affection, and they will seize the first op- 
portunity to retaliate. Be not fond of inform- 
ing against them. If they commit any great 
offence against your parents' authority, it will be 
your duty to inform them of it. But then you 
should do it in a very careful manner, not exag- 
gerating, or making it worse than it is, nor 
speaking of it exultingly or harshly ; but show, 
by your manner, that you are really sorry for the 
necessity you are under of performing a painful 
duty. But, in matters of little consequence, it is 
better for you to remonstrate kindly and tenderly 
with them, but not to appeal to your parents. 
If you do, it will occur so frequently that you 
will get the settled ill-will of your brothers 
and sisters. In some families, you can hear 
little else, when all the children are at home, 
but " Mother, James" — "Mother, Mary" — 
" Mother, Thomas " — " Mother, Sarah " — a 
perpetual string of complaints, that makes the 
place more like a bedlam than a quiet, sweet 
home. If your little brother comes along in a 
pettish mood, and gives you a gentle slap, half 
in earnest and half in fun, do not cry out, 
" Mother, John 's pounding me I " but take no 
notice of it, and presently, when he gets better 
natured, he will be sorry, and perhaps come of 
his own accord and ask your pardon ; or at least, 
4* 



42 THE ONLY DAUGHTER. 

show, by infallible signs, that he wants to make 
friends with you. But if you bristle up, and 
make a great ado about it, you will have trouble 
enough. There is no sight more unlovely than 
a quarrelsome family, — no place on earth more 
undesirable than a family of brothers and 
sisters, who are perpetually contending with 
one another. But there is no place, this side 
heaven, so sweet and attractive, as a family of 
brothers and sisters always smiling and happy, 
full of kindness and love, delighting in each 
other's happiness, and striving how much each 
ean oblige the other. 

But perhaps you are an only child. Then 
you will not have some of the trials common to 
youth. You will not have to strive against those 
clashing interests and feelings which exist in a 
large family of brothers and sisters. Your tem- 
per will not be put to such trials. But these 
trials are necessary, in order to discipline the 
heart, and to teach you the duties growing out 
of the different relations in life; and you will 
have them first to encounter abroad, when you 
come in contact with other girls. You will be 
greatly in danger of becoming selfish and conse- 
quential. Having no rivals in your parents' af- 
fections and attentions, you will naturally feel as 
if you were a person of some consequence, and 



TREATMENT OF DOMESTICS. 43 

will, very likely, set a higher value upon your- 
self than your companions will be willing to 
acknowledge. Nothing is more liable to give 
young persons false notions of their own superi- 
ority, than being brought up alone, with no 
opportunity to contrast themselves, daily, with 
others near their own age. 

Be generous in your treatment of domestics. 
Nothing appears more unlovely than to see a 
pert little miss domineering over a woman who 
is employed in doing the work of the house. It 
is mean and despicable. Such persons have 
many unpleasant duties to perform ; and it should 
be your aim to render their situation as agree- 
able and pleasant as possible. Never presume 
to command them. This does not belong to you. 
If you need their help, request it as a favor ; but 
never ask them to do any thing for you, which 
you can do yourself. If you have every thing 
done for you, it will make you helpless. It is 
much better for you to learn to help yourself; 
and women that do work in a family do not like 
to wait on children who are able to wait on 
themselves. Indeed, you ought to make it a 
rule, never to ask any one to do that for you 
which you can do yourself. If you make your- 
self dependent upon others, you will be trouble- 
some wherever you go, and an unwelcome guest 



44 NEVER BE CROSS. 

among your friends. But do not be very famil- 
iar with hired men or women, nor make them 
your companions or confidants; for they may 
lead you astray. 

In conclusion, I will give you one little family 
rule. You may think it a very little one; but 
it is able to do wonders. If you will try it one 
week, and never deviate from it, I will promise 
you the happiest week you ever enjoyed. And 
more than this, you will diffuse such a sunshine 
about you, as to make others happy also. My 
little rule is this : Never be cross. 



45 



CHAPTER VI. 



BEHAVIOR AT SCHOOL, 



Most of what I have said in the last two 
chapters will apply to your behavior at school. 
When you go to school, your teachers take the 
place of your parents. To them, for the time 
being, your parents have delegated their author- 
ity. You are bound, therefore, to give to them 
the same reverence and obedience which are due 
to your parents. To disobey, or to dishonor 
them in any other way, is a breach of the fifth 
commandment, which, in its spirit, requires sub- 
ordination to lawful authority ; or, as the Cate- 
chism says, " The fifth commandment requireth 
the preserving the honor of, and performing the 
duties belonging to, every one, in their several 
places and relations, as superiors, inferiors, or 
equals." You ought, therefore, in the first place, 
to pay strict regard to every rule of the school, 
as a religious duty ; and obey your teacher, in all 
things, with the same promptness and cheerful- 
ness that you would obey your parents. You 
should be too careful of your own reputation to 



46 HONORING TEACHERS. 

permit yourself to be reprimanded by your teach- 
er. If you take up the resolution that you will 
be so diligent, faithful, and well-behaved, as never 
to be reproved, you will find it a very whole- 
some restraint, to keep you within the bounds 
of propriety. Be careful of the honor of your 
teachers, remembering that, if you dishonor 
them, you break God's holy commandment 
Never call in question their arrangements ; and 
never indulge feelings of dissatisfaction. Espe- 
cially, never speak slightingly or disrespectfully 
of them, nor of their ways. It does not become 
you to call in question their arrangements, or 
their mode of teaching. If you are wiser than 
they, you had better not seek instruction from 
them ; but if not, then you should be satisfied 
with the dictates of their superior wisdom. Never 
attempt to question their proceedings, nor to 
argue with them, when they require you to do 
any thing. Be very careful, also, not to carry 
home tales from school; because such a prac- 
tice tends to cultivate a disposition to tattle, 
and often leads to great mischief. Yet, when 
your parents make inquiries, it is your duty to 
answer them. 

Be diligent in your studies, from principle, not 
from a spirit of emulation. Remember that you 
are placed at school for your own benefit. It 



DILIGENCE IN STUDY. 47 

is not for your parents' advantage, nor for the 
benefit of your teachers, that you are required to 
study ; but for your own good. Remember how 
much pains your parents take, to give you this 
opportunity. They give up your time, which 
they have a right to employ for their own ben- 
efit, and they expend money for the support of 
schools, that you may have the opportunity of ob- 
taining useful learning. You are bound, there- 
fore, to improve this opportunity with great dili- 
gence. You will not think it a task, that you 
are compelled to study ; but you will regard it 
as a price* put into your hands to get wisdom. 
It is all for your own benefit. In school hours, 
therefore, you should put away all thoughts of 
play, and all communication with other scholars, 
and give yourself strictly and closely to your 
studies. 

But, I suppose you will find the most difficulty 
in regulating your conduct during the intervals 
of school hours, and on your way to and from 
school. When a great many young persons of 
your own age are together, there is a disposition 
to throw off restraint. I would not have you un- 
der such restraint as to avoid all relaxation and 
innocent hilarity ; for these are necessary to keep 
your mind and body in a healthful condition. 
* Prov. xvii. 16. 



48 PLAYING WITH BOYS. 

But you must be careful to do nothing incon- 
sistent with propriety — nothing out of character 
for your sex. If you go to a school composed 
of both sexes, as most of our country schools are, 
it would be unbecoming in you to play with the 
boys, or to associate with them, any further than 
to engage in modest and sensible conversation, 
which will be improving and profitable both to 
them and to yourself. But the sports in which 
boys usually engage are improper for your sex; 
and for you to engage in rude, boisterous conver- 
sation and coarse jesting, such as ill-bred youth 
are wont to practice, would be highly unbecom- 
ing. You ought to carry out the rules of good 
breeding, in all your intercourse with your fel- 
low-pupils. Be kind, courteous, affable, and 
obliging toward all. Treat them as your broth- 
ers and sisters, except to maintain more reserve 
than you do at home, especially towards those of 
the other sex. You must not allow boys to be 
too familiar ; but be modest, and keep them at a 
respectful distance. And if they are inclined to 
be rude and unmannerly, have nothing at all to 
say to them. Choose for your recreations, those 
sports which are gentle and suited to your sex, 
not rough and roisterous. Be especially careful 
of your conduct on the way, to and from school 
Make it a principle always to be at school in 



GENERAL BEHAVIOR 49 

time ; and never linger by the way, either going 
or coming, for this will destroy your habits of 
punctuality, and expose you to many bad influ- 
ences. It is of the utmost consequence to be 
punctual at school hours. All the affairs of the 
school are deranged by tardiness; and you not 
only suffer loss in your recitations, but in your 
habits. 

There is often much impropriety practised at 
the intervals of school hours, and on the way 
to and from school; and there is great danger 
that thoughtless girls will lose their delicacy, 
and have their principles undermined, before they 
are aware of it. A man was at work in a ship- 
yard, in company with other men, in the build- 
ing of a vessel. He was preparing one of the 
planks for the bottom of the ship. " There," 
said he to his comrades, " is a worm-hole," as 
he planed off the rough outside of the plank. 
The workmen examined it, but concluded the 
hole was so small it could never do any injury. 
The plank was put in the vessel. Some years 
afterwards, as that ship was at sea, there came 
up a violent storm, and the ship sprung a leak. 
On examining the bottom, it was found that the 
water had for a long time soaked into a worm- 
hole, and rotted the wood for some distance 
around, till now, in the time of trial, when the 



50 A WORM-HOLE IN A SHIP. 

waves beat furiously against the ship, it had sud- 
denly given way. The men on board made ev* 
ery exertion to get her ashore, but were obliged 
to abandon her, and she sunk to rise no more, 
Many a girl has been ruined in consequence of 
a very slight deviation from propriety, which has 
led on to others of a more serious nature, till, at 
length, her principles have been corrupted, and 
in the hour of temptation they have given way, 
and she has sunk to rise no more ! A sad warn- 
ing to others to watch against the beginnings of 
evil. It is the " little foxes," * as Solomon says, 
that " spoil the vines." The old foxes eat the 
grapes ; but the little foxes, running on the ten- 
der parts of the vines, as they put forth to bud and 
blossom, spoil them before the fruit grows. It is 
thus that the character is corrupted and secretly 
undermined, by little causes, in early life. When 
a girl consents, in a single instance, to step be- 
yond the bounds of propriety, she exposes her- 
self to the most imminent danger of ruin. The 
following rule, if adhered to, will save you from 
a multitude of evils, while out of your parents' 

Sight : ALWAYS CONDUCT AS YOU WOULD IP 

YOU WERE UNDER THE EYE OF YOUR PARENTS, 
AND NEVER FORGET THE ONE Eye THAT IS 
ALWAYS UPON YOU. 

* Cant. ii. 15. 



51 



CHAPTER VII. 

BEHAVIOR AT TABLE. 

Did it ever occur to you to inquire why all 
civilized people have their food prepared at par- 
ticular hours, and all the family sit at table to- 
gether ? Why not have the food prepared, and 
placed where every one can go and eat, whenever 
he pleases, by himself ? One great advantage of 
having a whole family sit together, and partake of 
their meals at the same time, is, that it brings 
them together in a social way, every day. But 
for this, and the assembling of the family at 
prayers, they might not all meet at once for a 
long time. But eating together is a mark of 
friendship ; and it tends to promote social feel- 
ing. In a well-regulated family, also, it is a 
means of great improvement, both of mind and 
manners. It is, in fact, a scJwol of good man- 
tiers. You will perceive, then, how very im- 
portant it is, that your behavior at table should 
always be regulated by the rules of propriety. 
If you acquire vulgar habits here, or practise 
rudeness, you will find it difficult to overcome 



52 BEHAVIOR AT TABLE. 

them ; and they will make you appear to great 
disadvantage. 

I shall mention a few things to be observed; 
at the table, by one who would maintain a char- 
acter for good breeding. And, first of all, be 
not tardy in taking your place at the table. In 
a well-regulated family, the master of the 
family waits till all are seated before he asks a 
blessing. Suppose there are five persons at 
the table, and you hinder them all by your tar- 
diness three minutes, you waste fifteen min- 
utes of precious time. To those who set a 
proper value upon time, this is a great evil. 
There is no need of it ; you may as easily be 
at your seat in time as too late. When called 
to a meal, never wait to finish what you are 
doing, but promptly leave it, and proceed to 
your place. Above all, do not delay till after 
the blessing, and so sit down to your food like 
a heathen. 

The table is a place for easy, cheerful, social 
intercourse ; but some children make it a place 
of noisy clamor. The younger members of the 
family should leave it for the parents (and guests, 
if there are any,) to take the lead in conversa- 
tion. It does not appear well for a very young 
person to be forward and talkative at table. 
You should generally wait till you are spoken 



TABLE TALK. 53 

to; or, if you wish to make an inquiry or a 
remark, do it in a modest, unassuming way, not 
raising your voice, nor spinning out a story. 
And be especially careful not to interrupt any 
other person. Sensible people will get a very 
unfavorable impression concerning you, if they 
see you bold and talkative at table. Yet you 
should never appear inattentive to what others 
are saying. Be not so intent on discussing the 
contents of your plate, as not to observe the 
movements of others, or to hear their conversa- 
tion. Show your interest in what is said by 
occasional glances at the speaker, and by the 
expression of your countenance ; but be not too 
anxious to put a word in yourself. Some chil- 
dren make themselves ridiculous, by always join- 
ing in, and making their remarks, when older 
persons are speaking, often giving a grave opinion 
of some matter about which they know nothing. 

Be helpfal to others, without staring at them, 
or neglecting your own plate. You may keep 
your eye on the movements around you, to pass 
a cup and saucer, to notice if any one near you 
needs helping, and to help any dish that is 
within your reach. By so doing, you may greatly 
relieve your father and mother, who must be very 
busy, if they help all the family. By cultivating 
a close observation, and studying to know and 
5* 



54 STUDY PROPRIETY. 

anticipate the wants of others, you will be able 
to do these things in a genteel and graceful man- 
ner, without appearing obtrusive or forward. 

Study propriety. If asked what you will be 
helped to, do not answer in an indefinite man- 
ner, saying, you " have no choice ; " for this will 
put the master of the house to the inconvenience 
of choosing for you. Do not wait, after you are 
asked, to determine what you will have, but an- 
swer promptly ; and do not be particular in your 
choice. To be very particular in the choice of 
food is not agreeable to good breeding. Never 
ask for what is not on the table. Do not make 
remarks respecting the food ; and avoid express- 
ing your likes and dislikes of particular arti- 
cles. One of your age should not appear to be 
an epicure. Show your praise of the food set be- 
fore you, by the good nature and relish with 
which you partake of it ; but do not eat so fast 
as to appear voracious. Never put on sour looks, 
nor turn up your nose at your food. This is un- 
mannerly, and a serious affront to the mistress of 
the table. Be careful to use your knife and 
fork as other people do, and to know when to 
lay them down, and when to hold them in your 
hands. Be careful not to drop your food, nor to 
spill liquids on the cloth. Do not leave the 
table before the family withdraw from it, unless 



LITTLE THINGS. 55 

it is necessary; and then, ask to be excused. 
Neither linger to finish your meal, after you per- 
ceive the rest have done. 

Besides what I have mentioned, there are a 
great many nameless little things, that go to 
make up good manners at table, which you must 
learn by studying the rules of propriety, and 
observing the behavior of others. 



56 



CHAPTER VIII. 

BEHAVIOR AT FAMILY WORSHIP 

All well-regulated Christian families are as- 
sembled, morning and evening, to worship God. 
Seeing we are dependent on him for all things, 
it is suitable and proper that we should daily 
acknowledge our dependence, by asking him for 
what we need, and thanking him for what we 
receive. That we should do this as a family is 
highly proper. But if it is our duty to worship 
God as a family, it is the duty of every one in 
particular. It is as much your duty as it is your 
father's. You must, therefore, not only make it 
a principle to be in your place punctually at the 
time, but to enter heartily into all the exercises, 
Some children and youth appear as if they had 
no interest in what is going on, at this most in- 
teresting household service. But this is not only 
showing great disrespect to your parents, but 
great irreverence toward God. It will help you 
to right feelings, on these occasions, if you im- 
agine Christ Jesus present in person. God is 
present spiritually, and in a peculiar manner, at 



FAMILY WORSHIP. 57 

such times, to bless the families that call on his 
name. When, therefore, the family are assem- 
bled for prayers, you should put away all vain 
or wandering thoughts. When the time arrives, 
and the family are assembled for devotion, seat 
yourself, in a serious, reverent manner; and if 
there should be a few moments' delay, do not 
engage in conversation, nor in reading news- 
papers, or any thing calculated to divert your 
mind ; but direct your thoughts upward to God, 
and seek a preparation for his worship. Suffer 
not your mind to be occupied with any thing but 
the service before you. Let not your eyes wan- 
der about, to catch vagrant thoughts. Let not 
your hands be occupied with any thing, to divert 
your attention or to disturb others. Have your 
Bible, and take your turn in reading. Be atten- 
tive and devout, during the reading of God's holy 
word, endeavoring to apply it to your heart. If 
the family sing, enter into this sweet service, not 
only with your lips, but with your heart. When 
prayer is offered, place yourself in the attitude 
which is taken by your father and mother. If 
they kneel, do you kneel also, — not sit, nor re- 
cline, but stand upon your knees, in a reverent 
posture. Shut your eyes, and keep your heart. 
Let your heart embrace the words of the prayer, 
and make them your own. Remember that the 



58 FAMILY WORSHIP. 

devotional habits you form at the family altar, 
are the habits that will follow you to God's house, 
and probably adhere to you through life. And 
what can be more shocking than to see persons 
pretending to gentility, who do not know how 
to behave with propriety before the great God 
that made them ! If you were in company, and 
should treat the person that invited you with as 
much indifference as you treat God by such con- 
duct, you would be considered a very ill-bred 
person. He has invited you to come to his 
mercy-seat to converse with him, and to receive 
favors at his hand ; and yet, by such conduct as 
I have named, you show no interest at all in the 
matter. 

Family devotion, when rightly improved, is a 
very important means of grace. If you attend 
upon it seriously and reverently, you may hope 
that God will bless it to your soul. It tends, 
also, to tranquillize the feelings, and prepare 
you to engage in the duties of the day with 
serenity and cheerfulness. 



59 



CHAPTER IX. 

PRIVATE PRAYER. 

I suppose, if my readers are the children of 
pious parents, they have been taught from their 
earliest recollection, to retire, morning and even- 
ing, to some secret place, to read their Bible 
alone, and engage in private prayer. This, in 
very early childhood, is often an interesting and 
affecting service. But when young people come 
to a certain age, if their hearts are not renewed, 
they are disposed to regard this as an irksome 
duty, and gradually to leave it off. They find 
the old adage, in the primer, true, — " Praying 
will make thee leave sinning, and sinning will 
make thee leave praying." 

It is a sad period, in the history of a young 
person, when the early habit of prayer is given 
up. Then the heart becomes like the garden 
of the slothful, described by Solomon : — 

" I went by the field of the slothful, and by 
the vineyard of the man void of understanding; 
and lo, it was all grown over with thorns, and 
nettles had covered the face thereof, and the 
stone wall thereof was broken down." 



60 THE PRAYERLESS SOUL. 

There are no good plants thriving in the 
prayerless soul; but weeds, and briars, and 
thorns, grow thick and rank, occupying every 
vacant spot. The stone wall is broken down : 
there is no defence against the beasts of the field. 
Every vagrant thought, every vicious passion, 
find free admittance. The heart grows hard, 
and the spirit careless. Sin is not dreaded as 
it once was. The fear of God and the desire 
of his favor are gone. " God is not in all his 
thoughts." That youth stands on the very edge 
of a frightful precipice. 

I would not have you think, however, that 
there is any merit in prayer ; or that the prayers 
of one whose " heart is not right with God" are 
acceptable to him. But, what I say is, that every 
one ought to pray to God with a right heart. If 
your heart is not right with God, then it is wrong ; 
and you are to blame for having it wrong. I 
will suppose a case, to illustrate what I mean. 
You see a child rise up in the morning, and go 
about the house ; and though its mother is with 
it all the time, yet the child neither speaks to her 
nor seems to notice her at all. After a while, 
the mother asks what is the matter, and why her 
dear child does not speak to her? The child 
says, "I have no heart to speak to you, moth- 
er. I do not love you ; and so I think it would 



EXCUSES. 



61 



be wrong for me to speak to you." What would 
you think of such conduct? You would say, 
" The child ought to love its mother ; and it 
is only an aggravation of its offence, to carry 
out the feelings of its heart in its conduct ?" 
" Would you then have it act the hypocrite, and 
speak with its lips what it does not feel in its 
heart?" No; but I would have it love its 
mother , as every dutiful child ought to do, and 
then act out, in its speech and behavior, what it 
feels in its heart. But I would never have it 
excuse itself from right actions because its heart 
is wrong. Now, apply this to the subject of 
prayer, and you will see the character of all im- 
penitent excuses for neglecting this duty. And 
those who go on and continue to neglect it, cer- 
tainly have no reason to expect that their hearts 
will grow any better by it, but only worse. Bat 
in attempting to perform a sacred duty, the Lord 
may give you grace to perform it aright, and 
then you will have a new heart. 

If possible, have a particular place of prayer, 
where you can be secure from all interruption, 
and particular times for it. At the appointed 
hours, retire alone, and put away all thoughts 
about your studies, your work, your amusements, 
or any thing of a worldly nature, and try to real- 
ize that God is as truly present as if you saw 
6 



62 HOW TO PRAY. 

him with your bodily eyes. Then read his 
word, as though you heard him speaking to you 
m the sacred page; and when your mind has 
become serious and collected, kneel down and 
acknowledge God as your Creator and Preserver, 
your God and Redeemer; thank him for the 
mercies you have received, mentioning particu- 
larly every good thing you can think of, that you 
have received from him ; confess your sins ; plead 
for pardon, through the blood of Jesus Christ; 
and ask him to give you such blessings as you 
see and feel that you need. Pray also for your 
friends, (and for your enemies, if you have any;) 
and conclude with a prayer for the coming of 
Christ's kingdom every where throughout the 
world. 

Some young people neglect to pray, because 
they think they are not able to form their words 
into prayer. But you need not be afraid to 
speak to God. If you can find language to ask 
your parents for what you desire, you can find 
words to express your desires to God; and he 
will not upbraid you for the imperfection of your 
language. He looks at the heart. If that is 
right, your prayer will be accepted. 

Let me earnestly entreat you to have your set 
times for prayer, at least as often as morning 
and evening ; and never suffer yourself to neglect 



BENEFITS OF PRAYER. 63 

them. And, especially, do not adopt the un- 
seemly practice of saying your prayers in bed, 
but give to God the brightest and best hours of 
the day, and not offer to him the blind and the 
lame for sacrifice. You will find the regular 
and stated habit of prayer, thus formed in early 
life, of great value to you, as long as you live. 

But let me once more caution you not to trust 
in your prayers, for they cannot save you ; and 
do not think, because you are regular and ha- 
bitual in attending to the outward forms of duty, 
that you must be a Christian. 

Prayer, if sincere and true, will prepare you 
for engaging in the duties of the day, or 
for enjoying calm repose at night. If, for any 
cause, you neglect prayer in the morning, 
you may expect things will go ill with you 
all the day. You can do nothing well with- 
out God's blessing; and you cannot expect his 
blessing without asking for it. You need, also, 
that calm, tranquil, humble spirit which prayer 
promotes, to prepare you to encounter those 
things which are constantly occurring to try the 
feelings, and to enable you to do any thing 
well. Therefore, never engage in any thing oi 
importance - without first seeking direction of 
God; and never do any thing on which you 
would be unwilling to ask His blessing. 



64 



CHAPTER X. 



KEEPING THE SABBATH. 



Some people esteem it a hardship to be com- 
pelled to keep the Sabbath. They think it an 
interference with their liberties, that the state 
should make laws to punish them for break- 
ing it. This disposition very early shows itself 
in children. Often they think it is hard that 
they are restrained from play, or from seeking 
their pleasure, on the holy Sabbath. But God 
did not give us the Sabbath for his own sake, 
or because he is benefited by our keeping it. 
The Bible says, " The Sabbath was made for 
man." God gave us the Sabbath for our benefit, 
and for two purposes. He has made us so that 
we need rest one day in seven. It has been 
proved, upon fair trial, that men cannot do as 
much, nor preserve their health as well, by la~ 
boring seven days in a week, as they can by la- 
boring six days, and resting one day in a week. 
if there were no Sabbath, you would have no day 
oi rest. You would grow weary of school, if 
you were obliged to attend and study seven days 



BENEFITS OF THE SABBATH. 66 

in a week. If you are kept at home to work, 
you would soon tire out, if you had to labor 
every day in the week. But, by resting every 
seventh day, you get recruited, so that you are 
able to go on with study or work with new vigor. 
The Sabbath, in this respect, is then a great 
blessing to you ; and you ought to be so thank- 
ful to God for it, as to keep it strictly according 
to his command. 

Another object of the Sabbath is, to give all 
people an opportunity to lay aside their worldly 
cares and business, to worship God and learn 
his will. The other design of the Sabbath was, 
to benefit the body ; this is, to bless the soul. 
If there were no Sabbath, people that are de- 
pendent upon others would be obliged to work 
every day in the week ; and they would have no 
time to meet together for the worship of God. 
And, if every one were allowed to choose his 
own time for worshipping God, there would be 
no agreement. One would be at meeting, anoth- 
er would be at work, and others would be seek- 
ing their pleasure. But, in order to have every 
one at liberty to worship God without disturb- 
ance, he has set apart one day in seven for this 
purpose. On this day, he requires us to rest 
from all labor and recreation, and spend its sa- 
cred hours in learning his will, and in acts of 
6* 



66 THE SABBATH BENEFITS THE SOUL. 

devotion. The Sabbath thus becomes a means 
of improving the mind and the heart. It fur- 
nishes the best opportunity for social improve- 
ment that could be devised. It brings the people 
together, in their best attire, to exercise their 
minds in understanding divine truth, and their 
hearts in obeying it. And the same object, and 
the same spirit, it carries out in the family. If, 
therefore, you ever consider the duties of the 
holy Sabbath irksome and unpleasant, or feel 
uneasy under its restraints, you perceive that you 
must be very unreasonable, since they are de- 
signed for your good. You will not, then, find 
fault with me, if I am rigid in requiring the strict 
observance of the Sabbath. One thing I would 
have you remember, — If you would receive 
tiiefull benefit of the holy Sabbath, you must 
form right habits of keeping it, early in life. 
To give it full power over the mind, it must be 
associated, in our earliest recollections, with order, 
quiet, stillness, and solemnity. If you are in the 
habit of disregarding it in early life, you lose all 
the benefit and enjoyment to be derived from 
these sacred associations. 

The best directions for keeping the *Sabbath, 
any where to be found, are contained in the 
thirteenth verse of the fifty-eighth chapter of 
Isaiah : — " If thou turn away thy foot from the 



HOW TO KEEP THE SABBATH. 67 

Sabbath, from doing thy pleasure en my holy 
day, and call the Sabbath a delight, the holy of 
the Lord, honorable ; and shalt honor him, not 
doing thine own ways, nor finding thine own 
pleasure, nor speaking thine own words — " You 
must turn away your foot from the Sabbath, not 
trampling on it by doing your own pleasure, in- 
stead of the pleasure of the Lord. Your foot 
must not move to perform any act that is con- 
trary to the design of this sacred day ; and es- 
pecially, must not go after your own pleasure. 
You must not do your own ways, nor find your 
own pleasure. These things may be lawful on 
other days ; but on this day, every thing must 
have reference to God. You must not even 
speak your own words. Worldly, vain, light, or 
trifling conversation is thus forbidden. And, 
if you may not speak your own words, you may 
not think your own thoughts. Worldly, vain, 
trifling thoughts, or thoughts of your pleasure, are 
not lawful on God's holy day. But you must not 
only refrain from these things ; the Sabbath is 
not properly kept, unless its sacred services are 
a delight to the soul. If you are tired of hear 
mg, reading, and thinking of the things of another 
world, you do not keep the Sabbath according 
to these directions. To one who enters truly 
into the spirit of God's holy day, it is the most 



68 PREPARATION. 

delightful of the seven. You remember, in the 
memoir of Phebe Bartlett, it is stated that she 
so loved the Sabbath that she would long to have 
it come, and count the days intervening before it. 
Such are the feelings of all who love God and 
sacred things. 

Having made these general remarks, I will 
give you a few simple directions for making the 
Sabbath both profitable and delightful. The 
evening before the Sabbath, do every thing that 
can be done, to save doing on the Sabbath 
Leave nothing to be done in God's time that 
you can do in your own time. Lay out your 
Sabbath day's clothing, and see that it is all in 
order, that you may have no brushing or mend- 
ing to be done Sabbath morning. Rise early 
in the morning, and, while washing and dressing 
which you will do in as little time as possible 
think of your need of the " washing of regener 
ation and renewing of the Holy Ghost," and o. 
being clothed in the clean, white robe of Christ's 
righteousness. Then offer up your thanksgiving 
to God for his mercy in preserving your life, and 
giving you another holy Sabbath, and pray for 
his presence and blessing through the day. If 
you are called by your father or mother, for any 
service of the family, go to it cheerfully ; and 
as soon as you can retire again, read a portion 



GOING TO MEETING. t>9 

of Scripture, and pray to God for such particular 
blessings upon yourself as you feel your need of, 
and for his blessing upon others on his holy day. 
If you attend the Sabbath school, you will need 
to look over your lesson for the day, and en- 
deavor to apply it to your own heart ; for I sup- 
pose you do not put off the study of your lesson 
till Sabbath morning. 

Never stay at home on the Sabbath, unless you 
are necessarily detained. Make it a matter of 
principle and calculation always to be there. 
On your way to the house of God, do not en- 
gage in any unnecessary conversation, especially 
that which is vain, light, or trifling, to divert 
your mind, and unfit you for the worship of God. 
Do not stand about the doors of the meeting- 
house, to salute your friends, or to converse with 
your young companions. This practice, I am 
sorry to say, prevails in the country, among 
young people of both sexes, to the great annoy- 
ance of well-bred people. It is a great temptation 
to conversation improper for the Sabbath. It is 
very unpleasant for people who are passing, to 
have the way blocked up, so as to have to press 
through a crowd. Neither do people like to 
be sta?*ed at, by a company of rude young people, 
as they pass into the house of God. I am sorry 
to admit, also, that this unmannerly practice is 



70 BEHAVIOR IN THE HOUSE OF GOD 

not confined to youth; but that many elderly 
people set the example. Instead of doing so, 
go directly to your seat, in a quiet, reverent man- 
ner ; and if any time intervenes before the com- 
mencement of public worship, do not spend it 
in gazing about the house, to observe the dress 
of different persons ; but take the opportunity 
to compose your mind, to call in all vagrant 
thoughts, to get your heart impressed with a 
sense of God's presence, and to lift up your 
soul in silent prayer for his blessing. Or, if 
the time be long, you can employ a part of it in 
reading the Bible, or devotional hymns. But 
do not carry any other book to the house of 
worship to be read there. If you have a Sab- 
bath school library book, it will be better not to 
read it at such a time, because you will be likely 
to get your mind filled with it, so as to interfere 
with the services of the sanctuary. But the 
Bible and hymn book, being of a devotional 
character, will tend to prepare your mind for 
worship. Above all, do not read a newspaper, 
of any kind, at such a time. Even a religious 
newspaper would tend to divert your mind from 
that serious, tender, devout frame, which you 
ought to possess when you engage in the solemn 
public worship of the Great Jehovah. But I have 
often witnessed more serious improprieties, in 



PUBLIC WORSHIP 71 

the house of God, than any of these. I have seen 
young people whispering and laughing during 
the sermon; and it is a very common thing to 
see them gazing about during the singing, as 
though they had nothing to do with the service. 
I have also seen them engaged in reading, in the 
time of sermon, or of singing. Some, also, are 
seen, in time of prayer, with their eyes wide open, 
gazing about. Such conduct would be very un- 
mannerly, if nobody were concerned but the 
minister ; for it is treating him as though he were 
not worthy of your attention. But when it is 
considered that he speaks to you in the name of 
God, and that, in prayer, while you stand up 
with the congregation, you profess to join in the 
prayer ; and while the hymn is sung, you pro- 
fess to exercise the devout feeling which it 
expresses, — when all these things are considered, 
such conduct as that I have described appears 
impious in a high degree. 

Instead of being guilty of such improprieties, 
you will endeavor, from the heart, to join in the 
sentiments expressed in prayer and praise ; and 
listen to the sermon with all attention, as a mes- 
sage sent from God to you. You must not think 
that the sermon is designed for older people, 
and therefore you have nothing to do with it ; 
nor take up the notion that sermons are too 



72 HOW TO HEAR. 

dry and uninteresting to engage your attention. 
The minister speaks to you, in the name of God, 
those great truths which concern the salvation 
of the soul Can they be of no interest to you ? 
Have you not a soul to be saved or lost ? Nor 
need you think that you cannot understand the 
sermon. If you give your attention, you can 
understand a sermon as well as you can under- 
stand the lessons you are required every day to 
study at school. If you do not understand preach- 
ing, it is because you do not give your mind to 
it, and hear with attention. Your mind is here 
and there, " walking to and fro in the earth, and 
going up and down in it ; " and you only catch, 
here and there, a sentence of the sermon. This 
is the reason you do not understand it. En- 
deavor to examine your heart and life by what you 
hear, and to apply it to yourself in such a way 
as to be benefitted by it. And, when you leave 
the house of God, do not immediately engage 
in conversation, and by this means dissipate all 
impression ; but, as far as possible, go home in 
silence, and retire to your closet, to seek the 
blessing of God upon the services of his house, 
on which you have attended. 

I suppose, of course, that you attend the Sab- 
bath school. I think it a great advantage to 
those who rightly improve it. But, like every 



SABBATH SCHOOL. 73 

other privilege, it may be so neglected or abused 
as to be of no benefit. If you pay no attention 
to the Sabbath school lesson at home, your mere 
attendance upon the recitation at school will do 
you little good. You will feel little interest, and 
receive little profit. But, if you make it the 
occasion for the faithful study of the Holy Scrip- 
tures at home, to ascertain their meaning, and 
to become acquainted with the great truths of 
Christianity, it will be of great service to you 
in forming your Christian character. 

Having well and thoroughly studied your Sab- 
bath school lesson, you will then be prepared to 
engage in the recitation with interest. In the 
Sabbath school, you will observe the same gen- 
eral directions for propriety of behavior as in 
public worship. You are to remember that it is 
the holy Sabbath, and that the Sabbath school 
is a religious meeting. All lightness of manner 
is out of place. A serious deportment is neces- 
sary, if you would profit by it. Courtesy to 
your teacher, and to the school, also requires that 
you should give your attention, and not be con- 
versing or reading during the recitation, or 
while your teacher is speaking to you. In an- 
swering the questions, you should be full and 
explicit ; not merely making the briefest possible 
reply, but entering into the subject with interest. 
7 



74 SABBATH NOON. 

But be careful that you do not give indulgence 
to a self-confident, conceited spirit, nor appear as 
if you thought yourself wiser than your teacher. 
Such a spirit indulged will have an injurious in- 
fluence in the formation of your character, and 
will make you an object of disgust to sensible 
people. 

Some young people, when a little past the 
period of childhood, begin to feel as if they were 
too old to attend the Sabbath school, and so 
gradually absent themselves, and finally leave it 
altogether. This arises from a mistaken notion 
as to the design of the Sabbath school. It is 
not a school for children merely ; but a school 
for all classes of people, to engage in the study 
of the most wonderful book in the world. I 
hope you will never think of leaving the Sabbath 
school, as long as you are able to attend it. If 
you do, you will suffer a loss which you will 
regret as long as you live. 

If you remain at the house of worship between 
the Sabbath school and the afternoon service, 
as many do in the country, you will be ex- 
posed to temptations to profane the Sabbath. 
To prevent this, avoid meeting with your com- 
panions, in groups, for conversation. How- 
ever well-disposed you may be, you can hardly 
avoid being drawn into conversation unsuitable 



STUDYING THE LESSON. 75 

for the holy Sabbath. If you take a book 
from the Sabbath school library, this will be 
a suitable time to read it, if you are careful not 
to extend the reading into the afternoon ser- 
vice, or suffer your thoughts to be diverted by 
what you have read. But the practice of read- 
ing the Sabbath school books during divine 
service, which prevails among children, and 
even with some young men and women, is not 
only very irreverent, but a gross violation of 
good breeding. It is slighting the service of 
God, and treating the minister as though they 
thought what he has to say to them not worth 
their attention. 

You ought to have a particular time set apart 
for the study of your Sabbath school lesson. I 
should prefer that this be taken during the week, 
so as not to task your mind too severely on the 
Sabbath with study, inasmuch as it is a day of 
rest. But, if you cannot do this, I should advise 
. that you study it Sabbath afternoon, and review 
it the next Sabbath morning. 

Some portion of the Sabbath afternoon, or 
evening, you will employ, under the direction of 
your parents, in repeating the Catechism, which, 
I hope noi,e of my readers will consider beneath 
their attention. " TJie Shorter Catechism" next 
to the Bible, I regard as the best book in exist- 



76 LEARNING THE CATECHISM. 

ence to lay the foundation of a strong and solid 
religious character. If you get it thoroughly 
committed to memory, so as to be able to repeat 
it verbatim from beginning to end, you will never 
regret it ; but, as long as you live, you will have 
occasion to rejoice in it. I cannot now give 
you any adequate idea of the benefit you will 
derive from it. These catechetical exercises in 
your father's house will be associated, in your 
mind, with the most precious recollections of 
your early years. As I said with regard to your 
Sabbath school lessons, and for the same reason, 
I should advise you, if possible, to study the por- 
tion of the Catechism to be recited, during the 
week. But if you cannot do so, it should be 
studied on the afternoon or evening of the Sab- 
bath. If, however, you study these lessons m 
the week time, you will be able to spend the 
afternoon and evening of the Sabbath, except 
what is devoted to family worship and repeating 
the Catechism, in reading serious and devotional 
books, which will not tax your mind so much. 
If you are engaged in study all the week, your 
mind will need rest. Therefore, I would have 
you prosecute your religious study during the 
week, and let your mind be taxed less on the 
Sabbath, reading such books and engaging m 
such services as are calculated more to affect 



REVIEW OF THE DAY. 77 

the heart, than to tax the mind. You ought 
to spend more time than usual, on God's holy 
day, in your closet, in reading the Scriptures 
and prayer. But, besides the Bible, I would 
particularly recommend Religious Biographies, 
and such works as Bunyan's " Pilgrim's Pro- 
gress" and "Holy War," D'Aubigne's "His- 
tory of the Reformation," &e. But secular 
history, or any books or papers of a secular 
character, should not be read on the holy Sab- 
bath. In general, you may safely read, oi? 
Sabbath afternoon, the books that you find m 
the Sabbath school library ; though it will some- 
times happen that a book creeps into the library 
that is not suitable for this sacred day. A por- 
tion of the evening of the Sabbath, before retir- 
ing to rest, should be spent in reviewing the day, 
recollecting the sermons, examining how you 
have kept the aay, and seeking in prayer the 
pardon of what has been amiss, and God's bless- 
ing on all the services in which you have been 
engaged. 

A Sabbath thus spent will be a blessing to 
you, not only for the six days following, but as 
long as you live. It will contribute to the for- 
mation of religious habits that you will be thank- 
ful for to the day of your death. And when you 

become accustomed to spending your Sabbaths 
7# 



78 SABBATH DELIGHTFUL. 

thus, so far from finding them long and tedious 
days, you will find them the most delightful of 
the seven, and will only regret that they are too 
short — they come to an end before you have 
finished all the good designs you have formed. 

The fact that God has set apart a day to him- 
self, and commanded us to keep it holy, would 
naturally lead us to conclude that he would order 
his Providence so as to favor its observance. We 
have only need to examine the subject to be con- 
vinced that he does so. When his ancient peo- 
ple, the children of Israel, refused to keep his 
Sabbaths, and trampled his holy day under foot, 
he emptied them out of the land, and caused 
them to be carried off into a strange country, and 
to remain there seventy years. This was threat- 
ened in Leviticus xxvi. 34, 35 : — " Then shall 
the land enjoy her Sabbaths, as long as it lieth 
desolate, and ye be in your enemies' land ; even 
then shall the land rest, and enjoy her Sabbaths. 
As long as it lieth desolate, it shall rest ; because 
it did not rest in your Sabbaths, when ye dwelt 
upon it." In 2 Ch. xxxvi. 20, 21, this is referred 
to as one of the principal reasons why they were 
carried away to Babylon : — " And them that 
escaped the sword carried he away to Baby.on ; 
where they were servants to him and his sons, 
until the reign of the kingdom of Persia, to fulfil 



THOSE BLEST WHO KEEP THE SABBATH. 79 

the word of the Lord by the mouth of Jeremiah 
the prophet, until the land had enjoyed her Sab- 
baths ; for as long as she lay desolate, she kept 
Sabbath, to fulfil threescore and ten years." 

I can think of no reason why God, in his holy 
Providence, should not punish Sabbath-breakers 
now as well as then. I have no doubt that he 
does. If we could see the design of his Provi- 
dence, as it is explained in the Bible, no one 
would doubt it. Sir Matthew Hale, after a long 
and laborious public life, declared, as the result 
of his experience, that he found his affairs pros- 
per, during the week, just in proportion to the 
strictness with which he had observed the Sab- 
bath ; and that he had never met with success in 
any business which was planned on the Sabbath. 

I might fill this book with narratives of ac- 
cidents that have happened to young people, 
while seeking their pleasure on the Lord's day. 
Scarcely a week occurs, in the summer season, 
but the papers contain accounts of parties of 
young people drowned while taking Sabbath ex- 
cursions on the water, or of young men and 
bofs drowned while bathing on the Lord's day. 
Many very striking accounts of this kind have 
been collected and published in tracts. And a 
great many facts of a more general nature have 
also been published, in various forms, showing 



80 SABBATH-BREAKERS PUNISHED. 

that it \s profitable to keep the Sabbath, and un- 
profitable and dangerous to break it. My ob- 
ject, in this place, is simply to impress on the 
minds of my readers the very important influ- 
ence which the proper observance of the Sab- 
bath has in the formation of character. And I 
wish them to follow the youth through life who 
has been accustomed to keep the Sabbath, and 
who continues to keep it ; and then follow the 
course of one who has, in early life, been accus- 
tomed to disregard God's holy day. And one 
thought, in particular, I desire you to ponder 
well, — The Sabbath-breaker cannot expect God's 
protection. And, if God forsakes you, what will 
Decome of you ? 

A party of young people set out for a sail, on 
the Sabbath day. One of the young ladies told 
her brother that she felt very bad to think she 
was breaking the Sabbath, and she must return 
home. But he entreated her not to spoil his 
pleasure, for he should not enjoy it, unless she 
went with him ; and to please him she consented 
to go. The boat was upset, and she was drown- 
ed. The distracted brother now gave vent to his 
grief in the most bitter lamentation. He had 
been the means of her death. There he stood, 
wringing his hands in agony, and exclaiming, 
" O ! what shall I do ! How can I see my fa- 
ther's face ! " 



A MELANCHOLY EXAMPLE. 81 

Some years ago, a young lady in New York 
went out on Sabbath morning, as her mother 
supposed, to go to meeting. Indeed, I believe 
she told her mother that she was going to 
church. I think it most likely, from the story 
as it appeared in the papers at the time, that she 
started with the intention of going to the house 
of God. She was seen on the sidewalk, speak- 
ing with a young man. It was not known what 
conversation passed between them ; but it was 
supposed, from what followed, that he was an ac- 
quaintance of hers, and was inviting her to an 
excursion to Hoboken, a place of great resort 
for pleasure near New York, on the opposite 
side of the river. Very little is known of the 
manner in which she spent the day. Probably, 
they first had a sail for pleasure on the river, and 
afterwards promenaded the beautiful walks and 
delightfal groves of Hoboken. She was seen, in 
the afternoon, in company with some young men, 
at a public house of low character at Hoboken. 
Her body was found, the next day, at somt iis- 
tance from the house. She had been shamefully 
abused and murdered. 

This melancholy case affords a striking illus- 
tration of the single point that I desire strongly 
to impress on your mind, — God will not pro- 
tect the Sabbath-breaker. When we tram- 



82 DANGEROUS ASSOCIATES. 

pie on his holy day, he leaves us to ourselves. 
And what can we do without his protection ? If 
he forsakes us, who can save us from destruc- 
tion? This case shows, also, the great danger 
to which girls or young ladies expose themselves, 
when they smother the voice of conscience, and 
consent to go, with a company of Sabbath-break- 
ers, in pursuit of pleasure, on God's holy day. 
The young man, who has so hardened his heart 
as openly to trample on the fourth commandment, 
will not scruple to violate any other of God's 
commands, when temptation and opportunity 
present themselves. It was so in this case. The 
young men in whose company this young 
lady intrusted herself were a band of Sabbath- 
breakers. You see what they did in the end. 
If you consent to put yourself in the power of 
boys or young men who will violate the Sabbath, 
and put yourself out of God's protection, by vio- 
lating it yourself, you cannot expect any better 
result. 



83 



CHAPTER XI. 

HABITS. 

Besides what I have noticed in several of the 
foregoing chapters, there are many things of a 
general nature, which I shall group together 
under the title of habits. A habit is what has 
become easy and natural by frequent repetition. 
People not unfrequently become much attached 
to practices, which at first were very unpleasant. 
You will sometimes see men chewing, smoking, 
or snuffing tobacco, a most filthy and poisonous 
plant, a little bit of which you could not be per- 
suaded to take into your mouth, it is so nau- 
seous ; yet, by long use, people learn to love it. 
That is a habit. So, likewise, you see persons 
very fond of drinking intoxicating liquors, which 
to you would be a nauseous medicine; and 
which are poisonous and destructive to all. It 
is practice which has made these drinks so pleas- 
ant. This is a habit. 

Habits are both bad and good; and a habit 
is a very good or a very bad thing, as it is good 
or bad. Habits are mostly formed in early life ; 
and a habit, once formed, is difficult to be 
broken ; — once fixed, it may follow you as long 
as you live. 



84 TARDINESS. 

I shall specify a few of the bad habits which 
girls of your age sometimes contract, with their 
opposite good habits. It is very likely I shall 
fail to notice many others, equally important; 
but these may put you upon thinking, and lead 
you to discover and correct other bad practices 

I. Dilatoriness, or Tardiness. — The tardy 
girl is dilatory about rising in the morning. 
Although old Chanticleer is pouring his shrill 
note of warning into her ear, and the birds are 
rilling the air with their merry song, and the 
morning rays of the sun are peeping stealthily 
through the half-closed shutter, still she thinks, 
" There's time enough yet ; " and, instead of start- 
ing up with the lark, she lingers and delays. 
She rises in a yawning mood, and slowly and 
tardily proceeds to adjust her dress, lingering 
with every article, perhaps stopping to view it 
in some point which she had not noticed before ; 
or she casts her eye on a piece of an old news- 
paper, and stops to read that ; or her attention is 
attracted by something on the wall ; she stands 
a long time at the glass, fixing her hair, or ad- 
justing her curls; and thus the time is frittered 
away, till the breakfast bell rings, and she is not 
ready. Her mother and the hired girl have been 
up an hour and a half; and perhaps she has 
been called three or four times, and as often 



TARDINESS. 85 

answered, " Well, I'm coming" At length she 
makes her appearance at the table after the bless- 
ing, when the rest of the family have begun their 
meal. Or, if she gets dressed before breakfast 
time, she is not in season to render the assistance 
to her mother which she needs, or to complete 
the lesson, which, through her tardiness, she left 
unfinished the evening before. She hears the 
bell, but she is just now engaged, and thinks 
" There's time enough yet, — I'll just finish what 
I've begun;" and so she is not in season at the 
table. She has either detained the table till all 
are impatient of waiting, or else she takes her 
seat after the rest have commenced eating. But 
she is so dilatory in preparing her food, that she 
is hardly ready to begin till the rest have half 
finished their meal. She is left at the table to 
finish her breakfast, and her seat is for some time 
vacant at prayers, when she comes in and dis- 
turbs the whole family. This dilatoriness goes 
on, till the school hour arrives, and she is not 
ready. At five or ten minutes past nine, she 
seizes her satchel, and hastens to school, where 
she arrives, out of breath, just after her class has 
recited. On Sabbath morning, when the bell 
tolls and the family start for meeting, they are 
detained at the door to wait for her; she has 
neglected to find her muff, her gloves, or her 



86 TARDINESS. 

Sabbath school book, and she must stop and 
look it up. Thus it is in all things. When 
her mother calls her, instead of promptly coming 
to her assistance, it is, " Yes, in a minute/' or, 
" Yes, I'm going to." She must dispose of 
something else first. She does not seem to 
know how to start quick. She is always in a 
hurry when the time comes to do any thing, 
because she was dilatory in making preparation 
when she had time. She is always jate, — al- 
ways out of time, — vexing those that are about 
her, and injuring herself. She always seems to 
have started too late. You would think she be- 
gan too late in the beginning, — that she was 
horn too late, and so always keeps behindhand. 
Every thing comes too soon, before she is pre- 
pared for it. She will probably keep her wed- 
ding party waiting half an hour after the time 
set, before she will be ready for the ceremony. 
It is greatly to be feared that she will carry this 
dilatory habit into religion, and that death will 
overtake her before she is ready. 

Although all this seems natural to her, yet it 
is only tardiness indulged till it has grown into 
a habit. It has become a sort of second nature. 
But by resolution, diligence, and perseverance, 
the habit may be broken. 

The opposites of this are the good habits of 



PUNCTUALITY.' 87 

PROMPTNESS AND PUNCTUALITY. The prompt 

girl will rise with the lark in the morning. When 
the gray dawn steals in at her window, she 
springs from her bed, and in a very few minutes, 
she is dressed, and prepared to make her appear- 
ance in the family, to assist her mother, if neces- 
sary, or, if not needed there, to go to her 
devotions and her study. She has done, per- 
haps, in fifteen or twenty minutes, what the dila- 
tory girl would be an hour and a half in doing, 
and done it equally well. She is always in time. 
Her promptness enables her to be punctual. 
She never keeps the table waiting for her, and 
never comes after the blessing. She is never 
late at prayers — never late at school — never late 
at meeting; and yet she is never in a hurry. 
She redeems so much time by her promptness, 
that she has as much as she needs to do every 
thing well and in time. She saves all the time 
that the dilatory spends in sauntering, in con- 
sidering what to do next, in reading frivolous 
matters, and in gazing idly at vacancy. Do you 
desire to possess these good habits ? Only carry 
out the idea I have given of promptness one 
day, and then repeat it every day, and in a little 
time you have the habit established. 

ii. Untidiness. — An untidy girl leaves her 
things scattered about her room. She never has 



DO UNTIDINESS. 

a place for any thing; or if she has, she does 
not keep any thing in it. She leaves a thing 
where she uses it. Her room is all confusion. 
If she wants any thing, she never knows where 
it is, but must hunt till she finds it, which costs 
her a great deal more precious time than it 
would have done to have put it in its proper 
place. If she goes into another person's room, 
whatever article she lays her hand upon is mis- 
placed. She never thinks of putting it where 
she found it; but either throws it carelessly 
down, or puts it in the wrong place. If she goes 
to the library, and takes down a book, she 
either puts it up in a different place, and thus 
disarranges the shelves, or she lays it down on 
the shelf in front of other books, for her father 
or mother to arrange. If she carries a book from 
the library to read, she leaves it wherever she 
happens to be when she stops reading; and, per- 
haps, lays it down open upon its face, soiling its 
leaves, and straining it out of shape. And the 
next time she comes that way, if she happens to 
want to open the window, she will take the same 
book, without any regard to its value, and put it 
under the window. By this time, she has let it 
fall half a dozen times on the floor, bruising its 
nice binding, and loosening the leaves. And all 
the while she is reading, her fingers are busily 



UNTIDINESS. ©y 

employed in crumpling the leaves. Thus, by 
the time the book gets back to the library, it is 
in a worse condition than it would have been in 
two years with careful handling. Her school 
books are torn and dirty ; disfigured with pencil 
marks, blots of ink, grease spots, finger prints, 
and dog's-ears ; and if she borrows a book from 
the library, or of a friend, it is returned with some 
of these her marks upon it. 

If she goes into the kitchen, she is sure to 
put the tidy housekeeper in a passion, for what- 
ever she lays her hand upon is out of place. Nor 
does her own person appear to any better ad- 
vantage. Her dress is adjusted in bad taste ; it 
seems to hang out of shape. You would say her 
garments were flung upon her ; and you feel an 
involuntary anxiety lest they should fall off. You 
do not perceive precisely what is the matter, but 
there is an evident want of neatness and taste. 
Her hair wears the same air of negligence : her 
face often discovers the lack of soap, and her 
finger nails want attention. 

These are only a few examples of the effects 
of untidy habits. When untidiness becomes a 
habit, it runs through every thing. And the un- 
tidy girl will make an untidy woman; and the 
untidy woman will make an untidy house ; and 
an untidy house will spoil a good husband. A 
8* 



90 CARELESSNESS. 

man of taste cannot enjoy himself where every 
thing is out of order; and he will seek that 
pleasure abroad which he finds not at home. 

The twin sister of untidiness is carelessness. 
The careless girl is always unfortunate. If she 
goes into the kitchen, to assist about the work, 
she splashes water on the wall, drops oil on the 
floor, spills fat in the fire, scorches her clothes, 
burns her biscuit, breaks the crockery, or cuts 
her fingers with the carving-knife. 

If directed to sweep the family room, she 
oversets a lamp, or brushes giT a table cover, and 
sends Bibles and hymn-books sprawling on the 
floor; or if passing through the parlor, she 
swings her dress against the centre-table, and 
brushes off the costly books, bruising their fancy 
binding, and soiling their gilt edges. Every 
where she goes, something is found in ruins. 
The trouble is, she does not think, — she does 
not observe ; or else her thoughts and observa- 
tion are on something besides what is before her. 
She does not mind what she is doing. She does 
not look to see what she steps on, nor whether 
her hands have firm hold of the article which 
she takes up. If she passes through a door, she 
does not mind whether it was open or shut ; and 
most likely, if she finds it open in a warm sum- 
mer's day, she will close it; but if she finds ii 



A RULE. 91 

carefully shut on a freezing day in midwinter, 
she will leave it wide open. 

I need not tell you what are the opposites of 
these habits. The careful and tidy girl has an 
invariable rule, that saves her a deal of trouble, — 

" A PLACE FOR EVERY THING, AND EVERY THING 

in its place." Go into her room at any time, 
and you will find every thing in order. She can 
go in the dark, and lay her hand on any article 
she wants; and hence, she never adds to her 
mother's anxiety, by taking a light to her bed- 
room. She is so much in the habit of putting 
things in their proper place, that she never thinks 
of leaving them any where else. She never 
leaves a thing at random where she happens to 
be using it, but always puts it where it belongs. 
When she undresses, every article of her cloth 
ing is folded, and laid together in the order 
that she will want to take it up in the morning ; 
so that she loses no time in hunting for it. 
Her dress is adjusted with neatness and taste, 
every article being in the right place, every but- 
ton, every hook, every string, every pin, doing its 
appropriate work, and nothing left loose and 
dangling, nor hanging in a one-sided manner 
To whatever part of the house she goes, she 
leaves it in the order in which she found it ; for 
it is her invariable rule, when she uses any thing 



92 THOUGHTFULNESS. 

belonging to another's department, to replace it 
exactly as she found it. And when she takes 
hold of a cup of water, a lamp, or an article of 
crockery, she is careful to get fairly hold, and 
then to move moderately, and not with a flirt ; 
and by this means, she seldom spills any liquid 
or breaks any crockery. If she goes to the 
library, she is careful to replace every book or 
paper she takes in her hand, exactly as she found 
it. If she takes a book to read, she carries it 
with care, firmly grasped in her hand, and 
avoids letting it fall, or hitting it against any 
thing to bruise the cover. She holds it in such 
a manner as not to strain the back, nor crumple 
the leaves ; and if called away from her reading, 
she puts in a mark, shuts it up, and lays it in a 
safe place. She would as soon think of using a 
silver spoon as a book, to put under a window. 
And when she has finished reading it, she care- 
fully replaces it in the library, just where she 
found it. She does not place it wrong end up- 
wards, nor the title towards the back of the 
shelf; but puts it in the place where it belongs, 
makes it stand straight, and shoves it back even 
with its fellows. All her school books are kept 
in a neat and tidy manner. No blots of ink, 
nor pencil marks, nor thumb prints, nor dog's- 
ears, any where appear. If she passes through a 



NOISINESS. 93 

door, into or out of a room where other persons 
are sitting, she leaves it open or shut, as she 
found it, judging that the persons occupying the 
room have adjusted its temperature to their own 
liking. The great difference between her and 
the careless girl is, that she has her thoughts 
about her, while the other never thinks. " I 
did'nt think" is the careless girl's excuse; and 
that excuse is worse than the careless act itself. 

III. There is another very uncomfortable hab- 
it, which, for the want of a better name, I shall 
call noisiness. It is made up of talkativeness, 
loud laughing, humming patches of song- tunes, 
and in general, a noisy, bustling activity. Talk- 
ativeness itself is a very bad habit for a little girl 
or a young lady. It is a good thing to be so- 
ciable, and to converse freely and affably at the 
proper time, and in the proper place. But there 
is as much difference between this and talk- 
ativeness, as there is between the quiet, purling 
stream, and the noisy, babbling brook. " The 
tongue of the wise," says Solomon, " useth 
knowledge aright; but the mouth of fools pour- 
eth out foolishness." In the margin it reads, 
belcheth, or bubbleth. The thoughts of the heart 
come belching out like water from a bottle, 
without regard to sense, order, or arrangement, 
as though the chief object of the tongue were to 



94 TALKATIVENESS. 

make a noise. And one that is always babbling 
must needs talk nonsense, for want of something 
sensible to say. A talkative girl will tell all she 
knows, and all she can remember that she has 
ever heard any body say, to every one she meets. 
She will take up the time and occupy the atten- 
tion of others, in relating long, humdrum stories 
about matters and things which nobody cares to 
hear. You wait with impatience to hear the 
end of her story, that you may have a little quiet ; 
but her tongue never stops, but, like the clapper 
of a mill, keeps up its incessant clack. Such a 
habit is very disagreeable to others, and makes 
one appear to great disadvantage. It leads to 
the constant violation of the principles of good 
breeding. No one, especially a young lady, 
who understands what belongs to good manners, 
will presume on her own importance enough to 
suppose that others will be pleased to hear her 
talk and noise all the time. And no w r ell-bred 
person will think of obliging others to listen to 
her against their will. In listening to the talk- 
ative girl, I have often felt an involuntary appre- 
hension for the little member, which is obliged to 
perform so much labor. It must be made of 
stern stuff, or it would w r ear out, or, at least, 
grow weary. It is a wonder that it does not 
take fire from mere friction. It is necessarv 



QUIETNESS. 95 

occasionally, to stop a mill, to let it cool ; but 
the tongues of some people run incessantly, and 
yet seem to suffer no injury. 

But noise is not always confined to the tongue. 
There is a noisy way of doing things, which 
makes one think that the girl wants to attract 
notice. We would not be so uncharitable; for 
we always like to think well of others, and of 
none more so than a sprightly, active girl. But 
the thought comes unbidden, when we see one 
moving about the house, with a noisy step and 
a wide sweep, making the concussion of the 
atmosphere itself announce her approach. And 
we feel an involuntary sense of incongruity, 
when we see a noisy, bold girl, — it is so contrary 
to the model which we have formed in our 
minds of the female character. 

The opposite of this habit is quietness. The 
quiet girl moves about the house with a modest 
air, and a gentle step, as if fearful always of dis- 
turbing others. She involuntarily shrinks from 
the gaze of others ; and, therefore, she does as 
little as possible to attract notice. She has, in- 
deed, a tongue; but she values it too highly to 
keep it constantly running. Her silence does 
not run into a prudish reserve. She speaks with 
grace when spoken to, or when her sense of pro- 
priety sees a fitting occasion. But she nevei 



96 RUDENESS. 

speaks for the mere sake of talking, nor unless 
she has something to say. She is especially 
careful not to incommode others by her talk, nor 
to presume on entertaining them with mere tittle- 
tattle. She loves to sing; but she remembers 
that humming shreds and patches of old tunes 
and songs incessantly, besides the want of taste, 
may incommode others ; and therefore she waits 
for proper opportunities, when she may blend 
her voice in harmony with others, or exercise 
herself in this sweet art by herself. 

There is nothing which sheds such a soft 
lustre upon the female character in youth, as 
gentleness of spirit, and a modest, quiet beha- 
vior. These traits of character will always make 
a favorable impression upon strangers ; while it 
is difficult ever to wear off the unpleasant first 
impression that is made by a bold, noisy, bois- 
terous girl. 

IV. There are several other habits that I shall 
speak of in connection with other things, and 
therefore omit them here. I shall only notice 
one more in this place, and that is rudeness. 
This term does not describe any one particular 
habit, but a great many little ones. Webster 
defines it thus: "Rough; of coarse manners; 
unpolished ; clownish ; rustic." It is not, there- 
fore, a habit merely, but a series of habits ; and 



RUDE HABITS. 97 

theee so numerous, that it can hardly be expected 
that I should do any more than to give a few 
specimens, to show what I mean by rude habits. 
These I shall mention at random, a^ *b.ey occur 
to my mind, without any attempt at -:4er or 
arrangement ; presuming that the mind^ of my 
readers will immediately suggest a great many 
more, of similar character. Rudeness manifests 
itself both in speech and behavior. The habit 
of interlarding conversation with by-ioords, or 
unmeaning phrases thrown in at random, be- 
tween the sentences, is exceedingly rude, and 
especially unbecoming in a young lady. If I 
could write down some conversations of this 
kind, just as they are spoken, I think the prac- 
tice would appear so ridiculous, that you would 
never indulge it. By-icords, or by-phrases, of 
whatever kind, add nothing to the force or beauty 
of conversation; but some that are in common 
use among low-bred people are objectionable, on 
the score of vulgarity, approaching to profane- 
ness. Such a habit indicates, indeed, a dispo- 
sition to be profane, restrained only by fear. 
The use of low expressions, ungrammatical lan- 
guage, and a sort of chimney-corner dialect, is a 
rude habit, which, if indulged, may cost you 
great effort to overcome. If you would be a 
well-bred lady, never indulge any habit of this 
9 



yo COARSE JESTING. 

kind ; and be particular in your common conver- 
sation, to observe the rules of grammar, and of 
correct taste, yet without affectation of precise- 
ness. By beginning in this manner, you will 
form the habit of conversing in an easy, pure, 
and chaste style, free from all rudeness and 
vulgarity. 

Another rude habit of speech, much practised 
among the young, is coarse jesting, — running 
upon one another, with the use of low witticisms 
upon each other's peculiarities. I do not know 
that I am able to describe what I mean, so that 
you will understand me. I would give you a 
specimen, if I could do so without being rude 
myself. It is rude and uncivil to seek, even in 
pleasantry, to wound the feelings of any. 

Rudeness of behavior is almost indefinable. I 
shall only be able to mention a few things as 
specimens, — such as tilting one's chair ; sitting 
awkwardly; sitting on two chairs; putting the 
feet on another's chair ; rocking ; drumming with 
the fingers or feet; scratching books, furniture, 
window-frames, or walls ; and a hundred other 
things that might be named, which indicate not 
only the want of good breeding, but the want of 
good taste, and a sense of propriety. I have 
seen a little miss come into the room where I 
have been yisiting, and, throwing herself into the 



RUDE HABITS 99 

rocking-chair, rock violently back and forth, 
with as much assurance as if she were amusing 
herself in a swing. I have seen the same thing 
in a young woman. But, a little girl, or a young 
lady, who possessed a nice sense of propriety, 
would not have presumed, on such an occasion, 
to seat herself in the rocking-chair at all. I 
once met a young lady, who was attending a 
boarding school, and during a few moments' con- 
versation in the street, she busied herself in 
deliberately forming prints with her foot in the 
mud ! 

These are but a few specimens of rude habits. 
What I wish to impress upon you, by these ex- 
amples, is, the necessity of avoiding the forma- 
tion of habits which indicate rudeness and want 
of cultivation. All the habits which you form 
in early life should be such as you will wish to 
carry with you to the grave ; for it is exceedingly 
difficult to break up a bad habit. 



100 



CHAPTER XII. 

EDUCATION OP THE BODY. 

The reader will perhaps laugh at the idea of 
educating the body. But a moment's reflection 
will show that no part of man more needs edu- 
cation than the body. The design of education, 
as I have already said is, to form the character, 
and prepare us, in early life, for what we are to 
do in future. For this purpose, the body needs 
discipline as well as the mind. An ill body 
makes an ill mind and a sad heart. The health 
of the body is necessary to the healthy operation 
of the mind ; and a healthy body is secured by 
activity. But the body not only needs health, but 
discipline. The fingers must be taught all man- 
ner of handiwork, and exercised upon it, in 
order to accustom them to the use that is to be 
made of them ; the feet must be taught to per- 
form their appropriate duties, in a graceful and 
proper manner ; and all the muscles of the body 
must be exercised, in due proportion, to give 
them strength and solidity. The proper dis- 
cipline of the several members of the body is 



CONTROL THE MOTIONS OF THE BODY. 101 

necessary, not only to prepare them for useful 
occupation, but to give them a graceful, natural, 
and easy motion, and so promote good manners 
and a genteel carriage. 

I shall not be very particular in what I have 
to say on this subject, but only give a few gentle 
hints. 

1. Discipline the body to obey the will. 
— You would not think, to see some young folks, 
that the will had any thing to do with the move- 
ments of the body; for it moves in all imaginable 
ways, with all sorts of contortions. First flies 
out a foot, then a hand, then there's a twirl or a 
swing, then a drumming of the fingers, a trotting 
of the foot, or some such odd figure. This 
arises from leaving the body to control itself, by 
its own natural activity, the mind taking no 
supervision of its motions. Now, if you early 
accustom yourself to exercise a strict mental 
supervision over the body, so as never to make 
any movement whatever, except what you mean 
to make, you will find this habit of great conse- 
quence to you ; for, besides saving you the morti- 
fication of a thousand ungraceful movements 
which habit has rendered natural, it will enable 
you to control your nerves, the necessity foi 
which you will understand better hereafter than 
you do now. Make the will the ruling power 
9* 



102 EARLY RISING. 

of your body, so as never to do any thing but 
what you mean to do, and you will never get 
the reputation of being nervous. 

2. Avoid late hours. — It would seem hardly 
necessary to give such a direction to young per- 
sons still under the control of their parents. 
But facts too plainly show that parents do not 
always sufficiently consider the injurious effects 
of late hours upon the fair and healthy develop- 
ment of the human frame. And the disposi- 
tion of young people to seek amusement over- 
comes, with them, the dictates of prudence. But 
the practice of sitting up late, and especially of 
being abroad late at night, is a war upon nature. 
It interrupts the regular course of things. It 
turns night into day and day into night. If you 
would be pale-faced, sickly, nervous, and good 
for nothing, sit up late at night. 

3. Rise early. — It is said that, to have a fair 
skin, rosy cheeks, and a fine complexion, one 
must wash every morning in summer in the dew. 
Whether there is any virtue in the dew or not, 
I cannot say ; but I have no doubt that such 
would be the effect of the practice proposed. 
To rise early, before the atmosphere has become 
heated with the summer's sun, and walk abroad, 
snuffing the cool breeze, listening to the music 
of the feathered tribe, and joining in the sweet 



BATHING. 1 03 

harmony of nature, hymning forth praise to the 
Creator, certainly tends to promote health of 
body and cheerfulness and serenity of mind; 
and these will make a blooming countenance, 
and clothe very plain features with an aspect of 
beauty. The adding of the dew-wash will do no 
harm. If you make a rule of washing in the 
dew, it will stimulate you to sally forth before 
the sun has driven it away ; and you can find no 
softer water than the dew. 

4. Use plenty of water. — The body can- 
not be kept in a healthy state, without frequent 
bathing. It should be washed all over, with cold 
water, at least once every day, to promote health 
and cleanliness. One who has never tried it 
can have no idea of its invigorating effects ; and 
it seems hardly possible that the human system 
can keep long in order, while this is neglected. 
The machinery of a watch, after a while, gets 
dirty, so that it will not run till it is taken to 
pieces and cleaned. But the machinery of the 
human body is vastly more intricate than that of 
a watch. It is made up of an endless mumber 
of parts, of various patterns, some of them of the 
most delicate texture and exquisite workman- 
ship, but all parts of a great machine that is 
constantly in motion. And there is provision 
made for carrying off all the dirt that accumu- 



104 CARE OF THE TEETH. 

lates on its wheels and bands, in little tubes, 
which discharge it upon the surface of the skin 
But unless frequently washed off, it accumulates, 
and stops up the ends of these little tubes, and 
prevents their discharging, so that the offensive 
and poisonous matter which they would carry 
off is kept in the system Let this go on a little 
while, and it cannot fail to produce disease. 
Therefore, I say, use 'plenty of water. 

5. Take care of your teeth. — The teeth 
have a very important office to perform in the 
animal economy — that of preparing the food for 
the stomach. What is not done by the teeth 
must be done by the digestive organs. There- 
fore, your health is deeply concerned in the 
preservation of a good set of teeth. The voice 
and the countenance, also, plead with you to 
take care of your teeth. In almost all cases, 
teeth may be saved from decay, if attended to in 
time. The best directions I can give for pre- 
serving the teeth are, to clean them every day 
with a brush, and pick them after every meal 
with a pointed quill, so as to remove all the par- 
ticles of food from between them, and the tartar 
that adheres to the surface ; — cleanliness, as well 
as the safety of the teeth, requires this. You 
ought to have your teeth examined and attended 
to, by a dentist, once or twice a year. Keeping 



BE ACTIVE. 105 

them clean preserves them from decay; and 
if decay commences, a dentist can stop it, if 
he can take them in season. 

6. Be active. — The body was made for use. 
Every part of it is formed for activity. But 
any thing made for use will suffer injury to lie 
still. The human body, especially, if suffered 
to remain inactive, becomes useless. Activity 
strengthens the parts. If you would have more 
strength, you must use what you have, and it 
will increase. The right use of your members, 
also, must be learned by practice. Much prac- 
tice is necessary, for instance, to train the fingers 
to the various uses in which they are to be em- 
ployed, so as, (to use a homely phrase,) to make 
them handy. The body, likewise, needs exer- 
cise, to keep it in a healthy state. The various 
parts of its machinery have a great work to do, 
every day, in turning your food into blood, and 
sending it a great many thousand times, in a 
vast number of little streams, to every part of the 
body. But this machinery will not work, if the 
body is all the time inactive. It requires motion, 
to give it power. There is nothing, therefore, 
so bad for it as laziness. It is like a dead calm 
to a windmill, which stops all its machinery. 

7. Learn, at proper times, to be still 
— All nature needs repose. If the human sys- 



106 DEFORMITY 

tern were always kept in the utmost activity, it 
would soon wear out. For this reason, God has 
given us periodical seasons of rest — a part of 
every day, and one whole day in seven. There 
are times, also, when it is not proper to be 
active; as, when you are at your devotions, or 
at family worship, or in the house of God. So, 
likewise, at school, or in company, or when you 
sit down with the family at home, as well as in 
many other cases, activity is out of place. Your 
body, therefore, will never be educated, till you 
have obtained such control over it, as to be able, 
at proper times, to be still. And I may say, it 
is a great accomplishment in a young person, to 
know just when to be still, and to have self- 
control enough to be still just at the proper time 
8. Be careful to keep the body in its 
natural position. — This is necessary, not only 
to preserve its beauty, but to prevent deformity. 
Sitting at school, or at any sedentary employ- 
ment, is liable to produce some unnatural twist 
or bend of the body. The human form, in its 
natural position, is a model of beauty. But, 
when bad habits turn it out of shape, it offends 
the eye. Avoid a stooping posture, or an incli- 
nation to either side. But sit and stand erect, 
with the small of the back curved in, the chest 
thrown forward, the shoulders back, and the 



TIGHT-DRESSING. 107 

head upright. A little attention to these things 
every day, while the body is growing, and the 
bones and muscles are in a flexible state, will 
give your form a beauty and symmetry, which 
you can never acquire afterwards, if you neglect 
it at this time of life. And it will do more, a 
thousand times, to keep you in health, than all 
the doctor's pill-boxes. 

9. Avoid tight-dressing, as you would a 
black snake. — You will, perhaps, smile at this. 
But if you know any thing of the black snake, 
you will recollect that it assaults not with 
deadly venom, but winds itself around its vic- 
tim, stops the circulation of the blood, and, if 
it reaches high enough, makes a rope of itself, 
to strangle him. I need not tell you that the 
effects of tight-dressing are similar. Whatever 
part of the body, — whether neck, chest, arms, 
limbs or feet, — is pinched with tight covering, is 
subject to the same strangling process produced 
by the black snake. It obstructs the free circu- 
lation of the blood, and produces a tendency to 
disease in the part so compressed. If you feel 
an unpleasant tightness in any part of your dress, 
remember the black snake. 

10. Discipline the muscles of the face. 
— You may think this a queer direction ; but I 
assure you it is given with all gravity. If you 



108 BE TEMPERATE. 

allow every temper of the heart to find a corre- 
sponding expression in the muscles of the face, 
you will be sure to spoil the fairest countenance. 
How would you feel, if you were to see an ac- 
complished young person, with fine features, and 
a beautiful countenance ; but on coming near, 
should discover little holes in the face, from 
which, every now and then, vipers and veno- 
mous serpents were thrusting out their heads 
and hissing at you ? Well, the evil tempers of 
the heart, such as pride, vanity, envy, jealousy, 
foe, are a nest of vipers; and, when indulged, 
they will spit out their venom through the coun- 
tenance. How often do we see a proud, scorn- 
ful, sour, morose, or jealous expression, that has 
fairly been worn into the features of the counte- 
nance ! And what is this but the hissing of 
vipers that dwell within 1 Strive to acquire such 
self-control, as to keep a calm, serene expression 
upon your countenance; and you cannot tell 
how much it will add to your appearance. 

11. Be temperate. — To be strictly temper- 
ate is, to avoid all excess. Not only abstain from 
eating and drinking what is hurtful, but use 
moderation in all things — in eating and drink- 
ing, in running and walking, in play, in amuse- 
ment. 



109 



CHAPTER XIII. 

KNOWLEDGE OF HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS. 

It is in acquiring a knowledge of household 
affairs, chiefly, that your body is to be educated. 
Young girls often have wrong notions about this 
matter, looking upon house-work as mere drudg- 
ery, only fit for servants. And, especially, if 
they get it into their heads that they are to 
be trained up for ladies, they learn to despise 
all useful labor. And sometimes they become 
so heartless and unfeeling as to be willing to see 
their mothers working like slaves, while they set 
up for ladies. But this is any thing but lady- 
like. The term lady was originally applied to 
a woman of rank, as that of lord was to a man 
of rank. In the old country, society is divided 
into different orders, the nobility and the com 
mon people. But it is not so among us. Every 
woman can be a lady, who conducts herself in a 
lady-like manner. And the true idea of a lady 
is, a strict propriety of conduct on all occasions. 
One may, therefore, be a lady as well in the 
kitchen as in the parlor. 
10 



110 MRS BRADISH. 

Nothing will make a woman appear more 
ridiculous than a contempt for useful occupa- 
tion, and especially for household affairs. No 
woman that has the charge of a family can carry 
out the true idea of a lady, without a knowledge 
of household duties. She cannot have things 
done to her mind, nor save herself from the se- 
verest mortification, without it. The following 
well-told story, which I have met with in an 
old paper, will give a fine illustration of what 
I mean : — 

"It is the middle of January. Business is 
brisk, and winter parties are frequent. At half 
past eight o'clock in the morning, a girl stands 
at the foot of Mrs. Bradish's broad stairs, ringing 
the bell for breakfast. She returns into the back 
parlor, and after walking and fidgeting about for 
a while, begins talking to herself: 'I wish Mrs. 
Bradish would ever come to her meals when the 
bell rings. She stays half an hour, and then 
scolds because every thing is cold. I'm sure it 
isn't my fault; there was full an hour and a 
quarter between the two bells this morning ; but 
she's just as likely to be in time when I allow 
only fifteen minutes. I'm determined I won't 
get up so early another morning, that's poz — ' 
She was interrupted by Mr. Bradish's appearance, 
in morning gown and slippers., 



SOUR CAKES AND SOUR FACES. Ill 

" ' Why_, Bridget, why did you not ring a first 
bell? Here it is half past eight o'clock; just the 
hour I promised to meet a western merchant at 
my store. I shall lose a thousand dollars.' 

" ' I did ring a first bell, sir.' 

" ' Not at the regular hour.' 

" ' We can't have no regular hours, sir. Some- 
times the cook isn't up till eight o'clock, and we 
can't have no fire in the kitchen. And some- 
times Mrs. Bradish isn't ready for her breakfast 
till nine o'clock ; and she doesn't like it, if it's 
cold.' 

" ' But I must have my breakfast at eight 
o'clock. Come, hurry — give me a cup of 
coffee. This egg is as hard as a stone, and as 
cold as an icicle. Bring me some hot cakes.' 

" The cakes were brought. * These cakes are 
sour ; they are not fit to be eaten. What is the 
reason we always have sour cakes ? ' 

" ' I don't know. The last cook used to put 
in some white stuff to sweeten them, but I don't 
think this one knows. She don't seem to know 
much about cooking.' 

" * It must be soda, or pearlash. Go to her, 
and tell her to put some into her batter. Run 
up first, and ask Mrs. Bradish to come down to 
her breakfast.' 

" Mrs. Bradish and the remodelled cakes made 



112 MORNING AFTER THE DANCE. 

their appearance at about the same time. The 
former looked dull, listless, and sleepy, with a 
stray lock of uncombed hair hanging down from 
beneath a tumbled cap. The latter — that is the 
cakes — were of a dark sea-green color, and sent 
forth an odor very much resembling that from a 
soap-boiler's vat. Mr. Bradish swallowed one 
mouthful ; but, on taking a second, he was obliged 
to walk hastily to the window, where he threw 
something into the back yard. He returned to 
the table, making very wry faces. 

" ' Bridget, bring me a cracker, if there is one 
in the house. My dear, don't eat that bread or 
those cakes; you will be poisoned I took a 
whole mouthful of pure saleratus just now. How 
I wish we could ever have a pleasant breakfast 
together, with things hot, and nice, and well- 
cooked.' 

" ' I'm sure it is not my fault; — I tell the 
cook to make them nice.' 

" ' Suppose, my dear, you were, for one or two 
mornings, to get up early, and go into the kitchen 
to see that things were properly prepared.' 

" ' How can I get up early, when I am out, 
almost every night, till one or two o'clock?' 

" ' Let us go to fewer parties, my dear, and 
not stay so late when we do go. I should be 
much happier, and my business would be much 



FRETTING. 113 

better attended to. I think our servants need 
overseeing.' 

" ' Very well, Mr. Bradish. If you wish me 
to spend my time cooking, and overseeing ser- 
vants, you should have told me so at first, that I 
might have learned how. My hands will look 
pretty in the evening, with the nails all filled 
with pie-crust. And how can I dance the Polka 
with any spirit, if I'm to be dancing from the 
kitchen to the parlor all day?' 

"Just at that moment, there was a heavy 
thump and a loud squall overhead. ' There, 
that careless little Jane has dropped the baby on 
the floor. I hope she has not broken any of 
its bones.' 

" Charles Bradish really loved his wife and 
child. He followed her up stairs, but seeing the 
baby was not seriously hurt, he kissed them both, 
and hurried away. Just as he left the room, he 
said, ' My old friend, Horatio Snelling, is in 
town. If I see him tc-day, I must ask him home 
to dinner ; and, pray, my dear, be punctual, and 
have things nice and well served. He is one of 
my best customers, and he has a capital wife at 
home.' 

" ' I do wonder,' said Mrs. Bradish, ' what 
Charles must be bringing people home to dinner 
for. It is a perfect bore. And how in the 
10* 



114 FRETTING. 

world a nice dinner is to be got with a cook 
just out of an Irish bog, is more than I can tell. 
It is really a reasonable, pretty thing, to expect 
me to spend half of my time in the kitchen, 
teaching and coaxing those that ought to know 
their business before they come to me ! ' 

" At eleven o'clock, however, she went into 
the kitchen. The marketing had just come — a 
turkey, a leg of mutton, and a fine fresh fish. 
' Well, Biddy, I suppose you know how to cook 
these things. The turkey must be roasted, with 
a brown gravy made of the giblets. The leg of 
mutton boiled with caper-sauce; the fish must 
also be boiled and garnished with eggs. Make 
an apple pie, and some custards ; — that will be 
quite sufficient for a second course. And be 
sure, Biddy, to have it all hot and ready for the 
table at exactly half past three o'clock.' 

" Biddy said she knew perfectly well how it 
should be done, and that it should all be ready 
at the moment. 

" Mrs. Bradish dressed, and went out to order 
a new head-dress for the evening party. She 
met a friend who wished her to go shopping ; and 
time slipped away so fast in this manner, that it 
was three o'clock when she came in. She ran 
to the kitchen to see what state the dinner was 
in. The turkey was browning very nicely be- 



THE TIPSY-CAKE. 115 

fore a hot fire; and the cook assured her that 
the mutton and the fish were doing very well. 
The pies were yet in the oven, but the custards 
were of such a dingy color, and so burnt upon 
the outside of the cups, that Susan saw they 
would not answer to be placed upon the table. 
'I can make a tipsy-cake; Charles likes it, 
and it will look very well.' She sent the girl to 
the nearest confectioner's, for a sponge cake, 
while she beat up cream, sugar, and spices. 
The cake was brought. 

" ' Now run up stairs, and bring down a 
bottle of wine or brandy, from the dining-room 
closet.' 

" The bottle was brought, and part of the con- 
tents poured into a dish. The cake was then 
laid carefully in, and the custard poured around 
it. ' There, that looks nicely ; and how quickly 
it was done ! I did it all myself, too.' Saying 
which, she ran up stairs to change her dress for 
dinner. 

" She did not get down in time to receive 
her husband's friend ; but just as she reached the 
parlor door, the bell rang for dinner, so they 
passed at once to the dining-room. The meats 
were all on the table; but it looked bare, for a 
dish of potatoes, boiled with the skins on, was 
the only vegetable. The waiter-girl was sent 



116 THE DINNEH. 

in haste for some currant jelly, and the fish was 
uncovered. It was in pieces or flakes, and of a 
pale brown color. It was garnished w T ith eggs, 
one of which was streaked with green, and which 
sent forth such a peculiar odor, that the dish had 
to be sent out at once from the table. ' This 
turkey looks well/ said Mr. Bradish ; ' but I 
fear it is not done/ continued he, as the passage 
of the knife disclosed the raw, pink-colored meat. 
No, the turkey had been too suddenly cooked ; 
there was not a bit even of the bread that was 
eatable. Susan looked in despair ; but her hus- 
band, seeing her mortification, tried to put a 
good face upon the matter. ' Well, we must 
dine upon mutton; and there have been worse 
things eaten than a good leg of boiled mutton.' 

"Mr. Snelling declared it was his favorite 
dish. 

"'But how is this?' exclaimed Mr. Bradish, 
at the first mouthful ; ' it tastes of fish more than 
mutton. It must have been boiled with the fish.' 

" There are certain flavors whose union is 
pleasant ; but mutton and fish do not happen to 
be of that kind. Mr. Snelling, however, was 
good-natured and polite. He peeled a potato, 
helped himself to currant jelly, and appeared to 
eat with infinite relish, telling all the laughable 
anecdotes he could think of, about the bulls and 



THE DOSE. 117 

mistakes of both foreigners and natives. Neither 
Charles nor his wife, however, could converse 
with any spirit; and they both looked relieved, 
when the dishes were taken away. Susan hoped 
that the apple pie would prove eatable ; but she 
was mistaken — the crust was hard and leathery, 
and the apples half baked and ill-flavored. The 
custard cake was her last and only hope. ' Let 
me help you to some of this, Mr. Snelling, 5 said 
she, filling a plate full. ' I natter myself you 
will find it good, for I made it myself. Our 
dinner has proved so very poor, I hope yon will 
eat heartily of it.' 

" Charles brightened up. He looked at his 
friend, hoping to hear him praise his wife's cook- 
ery. His guest had a spoonful of the liquid 
cake in his mouth. His face flushed, his teeth 
were set together, while a peculiar heaving mo- 
tion of the chest showed any thing but a gratified 
palate. At last, with a tremendous effort, he 
swallowed it. 

(fl What is it?' said Charles, looking aghast, 
and at the same time tasting the dish before him. 
8 Heavens and earth ! It is saturated with nauseous 
drugs ! This is not wine ; it is elixir pro ! 3 It 
was true; the girl, in her hurry, had mistaken 
the bottle. 

"The friend was a humorist, and the whole 



118 WOULD-BE LADIES. 

affair of the dinner, Mrs. Bradish's chop-faller. 
countenance, and her husband's rueful look?, 
struck him all at once so ludicrously, that he 
could not refrain from laughing long and heart- 
ily. Few people could resist that laugh, and 
Charles was finally obliged to join ; but his wife 
had been too much mortified, and was now too 
angry, to partake in their merriment; so she 
betook herself to her nursery." 

If Mrs. Bradish had been in the habit of work- 
ing in the kitchen, when she was a girl, and if 
her mother had made it an important part of her 
education to learn household affairs, she would 
never have suffered these mortifications. 

Some would-be ladies affect great contempt 
for labor, and especially scorn to put their hands 
to any household work. They are afraid of 
soiling their hands, or of having it known among 
their fashionable friends that they are in the 
habit of doing any thing useful. But such ladies 
are always unhappy ; because they are obliged 
to be dependent on servants, and they can never 
get those who will do work to suit them, unless 
they know how to do it themselves, and are able 
to give instruction to those whom they employ. 
They are, likewise, despised by all sensible peo- 
ple ; for the greatest merit any one can have, in 
the estimation of the people of this country, is, 



HONORABLE WOMEN. 119 

to be useful. But a lady who does not know 
how to take care of herself and of her own 
house, or who feels above it, cannot be very 
useful. She will, most likely, be a laughing- 
stock among the people. The greater portion of 
the women of this country, with the assistance of 
their daughters, do their own work ; and some 
of the most accomplished ladies I have ever 
seen are not ashamed, when there is occasion 
for it, to go into the kitchen and cook a meal of 
victuals. And why should they be ? Christian 
ladies are called by the apostle Peter the daughters 
of Sarah : and she cooked a supper with her own 
hands for the angels that came to visit Abra- 
ham. King Solomon represents his virtuous 
woman as seeking wool and flax, and working 
willingly with her hands, and as rising early and 
giving meat to her household. No one need be 
ashamed to be seen engaged in any useful em- 
ployment ; but it is a great shame for any woman 
who has charge of a house, not to understand 
how to do what is necessary to manage a house. 
There is much to interest the mind in house- 
hold affairs. You may apply your philosophy to 
sweeping and dusting, and making beds, and 
find interesting illustrations of what you learn 
from books in all the arrangements of the house ; 
and in cooking and washing you will find abun- 



120 PHILOSOPHY IN THE KITCHEN. 

dance of interesting experiments in chemistry. 
Yet there are multitudes who would prefer 
spending their time at fancy needle-work, though 
there is very little required in performing it but 
mechanical skill. This I do not condemn ; but 
the useful should be set foremost. All orna- 
mental branches of education are to be encour- 
aged ; but they will not make amends for the 
want of skill to cook a meal of victuals, make a 
plain garment, or darn a stocking. There is 
more science in boiling a potato, or raising 
bread, and more judgment required, than there 
is in executing the finest piece of embroidery. 
Should you ever become the mistress of a house, 
your ornamental work will please the sight; but 
it will never set off against heavy bread and 
hard, watery potatoes. 



121 



CHAPTER XIV. 

EDUCATION OF THE HEART. 

By the heart, I mean the moral faculties, in 
distinction from the intellectual. Any action 
is moral, which can be praised or blamed. The 
moral faculties are those which determine moral 
action. These faculties are, the Conscience, Will, 
and Affections. In this division, I do not attempt 
metaphysical exactness, but only what I can 
make my readers understand. When I speak 
of educating these faculties, I do not mean to 
separate the process from that of religious edu- 
cation in general : for nothing can be well done, 
in the formation of character, without religious 
principle and motives at the foundation. But 
my object is, to speak of the specific means 
by which these faculties may be cultivated. 

It may be necessary for me to explain what I 
mean by the Conscience, Will, and Affections. Yet 
it does not fall in with my design, neither would 
it suit the age and capacities of those for whom 
I write, to enter into a philosophical description, 
11 



122 CONSCIENCE. 

or analysis, of the faculties of the mind, or affec- 
tions of the heart. I shall only give such simple 
explanations as are sufficient for my purpose, and 
as I suppose will be understood by my readers. 

I. The Conscience. — This is the faculty 
which determines whether any action proposed 
to the mind, or any feeling of the heart, is right 
or wrong. If you will watch the motions of your 
own mind, you will perceive, whenever any thing 
is proposed to be done or not to be done, some- 
thing within tells you that it is either right or 
wrong ; if wrong, you find the same something 
within, urging you not to do it ; or, if right, the 
same impulse moves you to do it. If you do as 
you are thus urged, you find the same voice 
within approving what you have done, or, if you 
do not obey, condemning you. This something 
within is conscience. 

You have, doubtless, lived long enough to 
experience many a conflict, or dispute, between 
your conscience and your inclinations. You are 
inclined to do something which your conscience 
tells you is wrong ; but conscience not only tells 
you it is wrong, but urges you not to do it, 
Your inclinations, or desires, urge you in the 
contrary direction ; and this creates a conflict. 
If conscience prevails, then it approves your de- 
cision, and you feel happy. But, if inclination 



the soul's eye. 123 

prevails, conscience upbraids, and you feel mis- 
erable. 

As I have defined education, you will see the 
great importance of educating the conscience. It 
is the leading moral faculty, and must have a 
great influence upon the moral character. For 
the conscience itself may be wrong. It is not 
itself the rule by which you are to determine 
what is right and wrong. The Word of God is 
the rule. The office of conscience is, to deter 
mine whether any thing you propose to do is 
agreeable to the rule, and to urge you, accord- 
ingly, to do it or not to do it. Suppose you wish 
to determine whether any thing is straight ; you 
lay a rule upon it that you suppose to be straight, 
and if they agree, that settles the matter. Your 
eye, comparing the object with the rule, deter- 
mines whether it is straight or not. But, if the 
rule applied is crooked, your eye is deceived, 
and you misjudge. Conscience is the eye of the 
soul, that compares an action with the rule. The 
conscience, then, must be well instructed. You 
must learn the rule of right from the Word of 
God, and then conscience will always decide 
right. But, if you adopt false notions of right 
and wrong, your very conscience will lead you 
astray. The first thing, then, in the education 
of the heart is, to have it filled with right prin* 



J 24 CONSCIENCE STIFLED. 

ciples ; and these you are to obtain from the 
study of the Bible, and from listening to the 
instructions of your parents, teachers, and min- 
isters. 

The next thing is, always to obey the voice of 
conscience If you go contrary to it, and do 
what conscience tells you is wrong, or neglect 
what it urges upon you as duty, you weaken that 
faculty, and harden the heart. When you refuse 
to hearken to the voice of conscience, the next 
time it will not speak so loud ; and every time 
this is repeated, the weaker it grows, till at 
length it is scarcely heard at all, and you may 
go on and sin almost without restraint. If you 
will look back a little while in your own experi- 
ence, you will see the force of what I say. If 
you have ever fallen into the habit of secretly 
disobeying your parents, you will find an illus- 
tration of it. The first time you were tempted 
to disobey, your conscience was very loud against 
it; but the temptation, falling in with your in- 
clinations, prevailed. Then conscience upbraided 
you with a voice of terror. But you were not 
discovered, and no immediate evil followed. The 
next time the temptation presented itself, the re- 
monstrance of conscience was feeble, and its 
condemnation light. The next time it was 
feebler still ; till at length you could do with 



THE WILL. 125 

careless indifference what at first made you shud- 
der. But when the power of conscience is 
gone, there is but one step more to ruin. If, 
then, you would keep your conscience tender, 
you must always obey its voice 

Another means of educating the conscience 
is, the habit of thinking with approbation of 
what is right, and putting out of the mind with 
horror all thoughts of what is wrong. The 
most hateful things, by becoming familiar to 
the sight, lose much of the horror which they 
excite at first. A person who had never seen 
an animal killed would be deeply affected at 
the sight ; but a butcher thinks nothing of it. 
Soj by thinking much of what is wrong, the con- 
science becomes defiled, and ceases to act with 
promptness and decision ; while, if kept famil- 
iar only with the good, it would revolt instantly 
from the bad. 

II. The Will. — This is the faculty that 
chooses or refuses. It is the decisive faculty. It 
is the power that determines action, whether 
good or bad. It is the ruling faculty of the soul. 
I said conscience was the leading faculty, be- 
cause it goes before the action of the will, 
and moves it to choose what is right. The 
will is the riding faculty, because it determines 
all action The way to educate the will is, to 
11* 



126 SUBMISSION. 

accustom it to submit to the dictates of con- 
science. The will, in our fallen and depraved 
state, is turbulent and unsubmissive. It is not 
disposed to submit to the law of God, nor to 
those whom God has set over us. Yet there is 
nothing of more importance to our happiness and 
usefulness than the early subjection of the will. 
If you determine that you will always have your 
own will, you will certainly be unhappy ; for it is 
impossible that you should always have your own 
way. But if you early accustom yourself to 
give up your own will ; to submit to the will 
of God, as made known to you in his word and 
Providence, — to submit to your parents, as those 
whom God has set over you, and to your own 
conscience, as the faithful monitor which God 
has placed in your own bosom, — then you will be 
as happy as you can be in this imperfect state. 
This you will not accomplish all at once. It 
must be the result of experience, trial, and dis- 
cipline, with the grace of God in your heart. 
But if you begin to cultivate the habit of sub- 
mission, in early life, it will save you many a 
severe struggle and much unhappiness. You 
have doubtless learned, before this time, that you 
always get into difficulty at home, when you set 
out to have your own will. And perhaps you 
have sometimes, in your impatience at contra- 



SELF-WILL. 127 

diction secretly wished that you were of age, 
beyond the control of your parents, that you 
might do as you pleased. But I assure you, both 
from my own experience and from what I have 
seen of the world, that you will not find it any 
easier to have your own will, after you come to 
act for yourself. You will not succeed in any 
thing you undertake to do for others, unless you 
give up your own will ; neither will you succeed 
in making society agreeable to yourself. Sup- 
pose you go to a shoemaker, to get a pair of 
shoes made, and as soon as you begin to tell him 
how you wish them done, he answers, " I under- 
stand my business ; if you want a pair of shoes, 
I'll make them for you, but nobody can teach 
me how to do my Avork ? " You would say, 
" He is a surly creature; I'll have nothing to 
do with him." Or, suppose you go into com- 
pany, and you find a young lady who will con- 
sent to nothing except what she herself proposes ; 
you say, " She is a selfish creature; let her enjoy 
herself alone." But all this comes from mere 
wilfulness. You never will be comfortable, 
much less happy, till you are willing to yield 
to others, when no principle is concerned, but 
only the mere gratification of your own will. 
And when one is employed by another, it is per- 
fectly reasonable that he should be directed by 



128 ANECDOTE. 

his employer, even if what he is directed to do 
may appear to him unwise. The only way that 
you can succeed, and be happy, in any thing you 
may undertake to do for others, is, to submit 
your will to theirs, and do cheerfully, and with- 
out objection, what they require — provided, only, 
that they do not require you to do wrong. If 
you will look back, you will find that this wilful- 
ness has been the cause of all the trouble you 
have got into with your parents, and of nearly all 
the altercations you have had with your broth- 
ers, sisters, and companions. And, if you retain 
this disposition, it will make you miserable, 
whatever station in society you may occupy. 

A little boy, named Truman, lost his own moth- 
er ; and when he was four or five years of age, his 
father married again. His new mother was an 
excellent lady, very affectionate and kind-hearted 
toward the children. But one day, when she 
was teaching Truman how to read, she could 
not make him say his lesson correctly. She 
therefore used the rod till he submitted, and 
read as he ought. He was afterwards over- 
heard talking with himself, about his conduct : — 
" Tru, what made you treat your dear mother 
so? Hasn't she always been kind to you?" 
"Yes, I know she has. She loves me, and 
tries to do me all the good she can." " Then 



THE AFFECTIONS. 129 

how could you be so naughty, to treat her so? *' 
" I know I have been a very naughty boy, and 
treated her very bad indeed when she has been 
very kind to me ; and she was trying then to 
teach rne for my own good." " What can you 
say for yourself, then? How did you come to 
behave so?" " I can't say anything for my- 
self; I know it was very mean. I feel ashamed 
to think I could treat her so ; and I'll never do 
it again as long as I live. But I thought I would 
just try for once, and see who was master" 

The object of this little boy was to have his 
own will. He was not willing to submit to his 
mother, till he had tried his strength, to see 
whose will should prevail. He got a severe 
chastisement, and had to submit after all. And 
so it will always be with you, if you set out with 
the determination, if possible, always to have 
your own will. You will be always getting into 
difficulty, and gain nothing by it in the end. 

III. The Affections. — I shall not undertake 
in this place, to give a full and complete defini- 
tion of the affections. It will answer my pres- 
ent purpose, to say that the affections are the 
feelings or emotions of the heart. This may 
not be philosophically accurate ; but when my 
readers come, at a more advanced age, to study 
mental and moral philosophy, they can enlarge 



130 RESTRAIN ILL-TEMPER. 

their views. For all practical purposes, this will 
answer. And what I mean by educating tlie 
affections is, to acquire the habit of controlling 
the feelings, so as to suppress the bad and culti- 
vate the good. You hear people talk of good 
and bad dispositions. But a good disposition is 
only the preponderance of good feelings; or in 
other words, where good feelings and good tem- 
pers prevail, we say that person has a good dis- 
position; but if bad feelings and evil tempers 
predominate, we say he has a bad disposition. 
There is no doubt a difference in natural dis- 
positions. But with suitable efforts, and espe- 
cially with the aid of God's grace, much may 
be done to cultivate and improve them. 

With these preliminary remarks, I proceed to 
give some rules for the cultivation of the affec- 
tions. 

1. Check the first risings of ill-temper. 
— The smith, who makes an edged tool, — an axe, 
a knife, or any such instrument, — first works 
the iron and steel into the form which he wishes, 
and then tempers it. While he is working it, 
he wants to keep it soft, so that he can work it 
easy ; and this he does by keeping it hot. But 
after he gets it finished, he heats it in the fire, 
and dips it in water, so as to cool it suddenly, 
and that makes it hard. But, if he left it so, it 



HIGH AND LOW TEMPER. 131 

would be so hard that it would break all to 
pieces as soon as it was used. So he holds it 
again over the fire, and heats it a little, to take 
out a part of the temper, and make it just of the 
hardness that he wishes. An instrument that is 
very hard is called high-tempered ; one that is 
very soft is low-tempered. This is a good illus- 
tration of temper as it appears in us. A high 
temper is one that is easily excited, and that runs 
so high as to be in danger of doing great mis- 
chief. A low temper is a disposition easy and 
indifferent, like a knife tempered so little that 
the edge will turn the first time it is used. Now 
you want temper enough not to be indifferent, 
but not so much as to fly all in pieces. And 
I know nothing on which your usefulness and 
happiness more depend, than in the proper reg- 
ulation of your temper; and not your own hap- 
piness alone, but the happiness of all around 
you. One of the first and greatest moral lessons 
is, to learn to control your temper. " He that 
is slow to anger," says Solomon, " is better than 
the mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit, than 
he that taketh a city." But, " He that hath no 
rule over his own spirit is like a city that is 
broken down and without walls." By indulg- 
ing an ungoverned temper, you expose yourself 
to many evils. You show the weak points of 



132 EFFECTS OF BAD TEMPER. 

your character, and lose the good opinion of 
others, and your own self-respect. You cannot 
help thinking meanly of yourself after having 
broken out in a sudden gust of anger, or given 
indulgence to a peevish, fretful spirit. To be 
ill-humored, peevish, or cross, is to be unhappy, 
and to make others unhappy. But a sweet tem- 
per will not only make you happy, but, like the 
balmy breezes of a summer evening, it will shed 
a sweet fragrance all around you. Nothing will 
render your character more unlovely than ill- 
temper. Nor, if habitually indulged at home, 
can it be concealed even from the most careless 
observer. You will carry the mark of it wher- 
ever you go. There will be the ill-natured 
scowl, the knit brow, the distorted features, 
which no sweet-scented soap can wash out, and 
no cosmetic hide. It will spoil the most elegant 
features, and mar the most beautiful counte- 
nance. But a sweet temper will hide a thousand 
defects, and render the most ordinary features 
beautiful and lovely. I do not know any thing 
that adds a greater charm to the youthful coun- 
tenance. But, if you would have a sweet tem- 
per, you must suppress every ill-natured feeling; 
never suffer yourself to be angry at trifles, nor 
get into a storm of passion on any account: 
neither indulge a peevish, fretful disposition; 



THE BROOK AND THE RIVER. 133 

but, on the contrary, cultivate and cherish good- 
nature, in every possible way. Strive to be 
pleased with every thing around you, unless it 
is positively bad ; and never suffer the ill-humors 
of others to disturb your own tranquillity. The 
noisy cataract comes splashing its muddy waters 
over the side of the mountain, leaping from rock 
to rock, now shouting, now murmuring, now 
scolding, now rushing on in the wildest fury, 
till it plunges into the great river ; but the river 
rolls quietly on its majestic way, undisturbed by 
the babbling waterfall, which only makes a mo- 
mentary ripple upon the surface of its placid 
waters. But, suppose the river should stop its 
course, to quarrel with the noisy waterfall, what 
would be the consequence ? The whole country 
would be inundated with the fury of its pent- 
up waters. You cannot afford to get angry with 
every one that is disposed to treat you ill. It 
costs too much. Did you ever see a dog bark- 
ing at the moon ? And what did the moon do ? 
It went right straight on, and minded nothing 
about it. The moon can't afford to stop and 
quarrel with the dog that barks at it. 

" I know it is very foolish to be angry," per- 
haps you will say; "but how can I help it? I 
am suddenly provoked, and fall into a passion 
before I have time to think of it." The best 
12 



134 CONSIDERATION. 

remedy I can recommend is, that you make it a 
rule never to be angry till you have had time to 
consider whether you have any thing to be angry 
about. And, in making inquiry, do not ask 
whether the conduct that provoked you was bad ; 
but, in the first place, try if you cannot find 
some apology for it, or some palliation; and, 
second, whether, admitting it to be as bad as it 
seems, it is really worth so great a sacrifice of 
feeling, on your part, as you will have to make, 
if you indulge your passions. And, among other 
considerations, ask yourself how this thing will 
appear a hundred years hence, when both your- 
self and the person who has provoked you, will 
be in eternity: — " If I indulge my passions in 
this thing, shall I then be able to look back 
upon it with pleasure ? " Some such reflections 
as these will tend greatly to cool your anger ; 
and most likely, before you have thought upon 
the matter many minutes, you will conclude that 
it is not worth while to be angry. 

So likewise, if you are given to fretfulness 
and ill-humor, consider whether there is any suf- 
ficient cause why you should thus make your- 
self miserable ? And you will probably find 
that all your trouble is imaginary. Remember 
that every thing that concerns you is ordered by 
the providence of God ; and think how much 



ENVY AND JEALOUS r. 135 

cause of thankfulness you have, every day, for his 
goodness. And what has he done that you should 
fret against him ? He has perhaps suffered your 
will to be crossed ; but he has done it for your 
good. Think, also, how this will appear a hun- 
dred years hence ? " How will my fretfulness 
appear, when I look back upon it, from another 
world ? " And if there were no sin in it, is there 
not much folly? — for " why should I make 
myself miserable ? " 

2. Never give the least indulgence to 
a jealous or envious spirit. — To be jealous, 
is to suspect others of being unfriendly to us, 
or of a design to injure us. To be envious, is 
to be displeased with the prosperity of others, 
especially if they are likely to excel us. The 
effect of these two passions upon the disposition 
is very similar. If you are jealous of any per- 
son, you will be always looking for some evil 
design in his conduct ; and your imagination 
will conjure up a thousand things that never had 
any existence, except in your own mind. This 
passion, habitually indulged, very often settles 
down into a kind of monomania, or partial in- 
sanity. I have known persons, whose imagin- 
ings, through the influence of jealousy, became 
realities to their minds, and they would roundly 
assert as facts, the things that they had imag- 



136 LAURA WILLIAMS. 

ined respecting others. Such persons are per- 
petually in trouble, because they Taney some one 
is plotting against them. Your own comfort, 
therefore, depends on your suppressing the first 
motions of this evil affection. While you should 
be on your guard against imposition, and never 
confide implicitly in strangers, nor put your- 
self in the power of any one whose character 
has not been proved, yet you should presume 
others to be friendly till they show themselves 
otherwise, and always give their conduct the 
best construction it will bear. 

Let me give you an example. There is Laura 
Williams, — she is always in trouble, for fear some 
one does not like her. If any of her companions 
seem to take more notice of some other one 
than of herself, she begins to be jealous that 
their professions of friendship are not real ; and 
if any one happens not to notice her for once, 
she considers it a slight ; and so her feelings are 
perpetually disturbed. She is never happy. 
Sometimes she will weep, as if her heart would 
break, for some fancied slight ; when, in reality, 
she has no occasion for trouble, and might just 
as well laugh as cry. She will be unhappy as 
long as she lives, and perhaps crazy before she 
dies, if she does not overcome this passion. 

Envy is a more depraved passion than jeal- 



MEANNESS OF ENVY. 137 

ousy ; but the effect upon the character is nearly 
similar. You will find a melancholy illustration 
of the nature and effects of envy, in the story of 
Haman, in the Book of Esther. Though exalted 
to the second place in the kingdom, he could not 
enjoy his elevation, so long as Mordecai the Jew 
sat in the king's gate. He could endure no 
rival. 

But you will find examples enough of this pas- 
sion among your own companions. There are 
those that cannot bear a rival ; and if any of 
their companions excel themselves, they hate 
them. But consider how mean and ignoble 
such a feeling is. A truly generous spirit will 
rejoice in whatever is excellent — will love ex- 
cellence wherever it appears ; but a mean and 
selfish spirit would monopolize every thing to 
itself, and be offended, if excelled by others. 
Every noble sentiment revolts at the spirit of 
envy ; so that this base passion always defeats 
itself. The envious person would be exalted 
above all ; but envy debases him below all, and 
renders him despicable and miserable. 

3. Acquire the habit of regarding every 

ONE WITH FEELINGS OF GOOD-WILL. There 

are some persons, who accustom themselves tc 
look upon others with a critical eye, and seem 
to take pleasure in detecting and exposing their 
12* 



138 GOOD-WILL. 

failings. This leads to misanthropy; it makes 
people ill-natured. It leads them to look upon 
almost every one as an object of aversion. If 
this disposition begins in early life, and continues 
to be cultivated, it will grow and increase, till it 
settles at last into a sour, morose, malignant 
temper, that can never look with pleasure or 
satisfaction upon any human being. 

Instead of indulging such a temper, you 
should look with feelings of good-will upon 
every one. Do not regard others with a critical 
eye. If they are not incorrigibly bad, so as to 
render them dangerous associates, overlook their 
faults, and study to find out some redeeming 
qualities. Consider that they belong to the same 
great family — that they are as good by nature 
as yourself — that they have immortal souls, to 
be saved or lost. Try what excuses or apologies 
you can find for their faults in the circumstances 
in which they have been bred. And though you 
may not see fit to make choice of them as your 
friends, yet feel kindly towards them. But es- 
pecially, do not forget that you are not faultless 
yourself. This will exert a softening influence 
upon your own character ; and you will find 
yourself much more happy in studying the good 
qualities of others, and exercising feelings of 
charity and good-will toward them, than you will 



GENEROSITY. 139 

in criticising and finding fault. The one course 
will make you amiable and happy, — the other, 
unlovely and miserable. 

4. Give free indulgence to every noble 
and generous sentiment. — Rejoice when you 
see others prosperous. Why should you be un- 
happy, that another is more prosperous than your- 
self, if you are not injured by it ? If you love 
your neighbor as yourself, his prosperity will be 
as grateful to you as your own. Rejoice, also, 
in the excellence of others. A truly noble heart 
loves excellence for excellence's sake. A gen- 
erous heart is forgetful of self; and when it sees 
excellence, it is drawn toward it in love. It 
would scorn to put little self between it and a 
worthy object. 

This disposition should also be carried out in 
action. A generous and noble spirit will not al- 
ways be contending for its own rights. It will 
yield rather than contend. Contention, among 
companions and associates, for each other's rights, 
is a source of great unhappiness ; and when it 
becomes habitual, as it sometimes does among 
brothers and sisters at home, it spoils the dispo- 
sition, " That is mine" says one. " No," says 
the other, "it is not yours, it is mine." And 
without waiting quietly to look into the matter, 
and investigate the question of right, they fall 



140 GENTLENESS. 

into a sharp contention. The matter in ques- 
tion was a mere trifle. It was not worth the sac- 
rifice of good-nature which it cost. How much 
better both would feel, to keep good-natured, 
and give each other the reasons for their claims, 
and if they cannot agree, for one or the other to 
yield ! Or, rather, how much more noble, if the 
contention be, which shall be allowed the privi- 
lege of yielding ! There is more pleasure in one 
act of generosity than in all that can be enjoyed 
by selfish possession ; and nothing will render 
you more lovely in the eyes of others than a 
noble and generous disposition. 

5. Be Gentle. — Gentleness is opposed to all 
severity and roughness of manners. It diffuses 
a mild, bland, amiable spirit through all the be- 
havior. It has much to do with the cultivation 
of the affections. Where this is wanting, none 
of the amiable affections will flourish. A gentle 
spirit will show itself in a gentle behavior, and a 
gentle behavior will react upon the spirit, and 
promote the growth of all the mild and amiable 
affections. You can distinguish the gentle by 
the motion of the head, or the sound of their 
footsteps. Their movements are quiet and noise- 
less. There is a charm in their behavior which 
operates to secure for them the good opinion 
of all. 



KINDNESS. 141 

6. Be kind. — Every kind act that is per- 
formed increases the kind feelings of the heart. 
If you treat your brothers and sisters kindly, 
you will feel more kindly toward them ; while, 
if you treat them with harshness and severity, or 
ill-treat them in any manner, it will seal up 
your affections toward them, and you will be 
more inclined to treat them with coolness and 
indifference. If you are habitually kind to every 
one, embracing every opportunity in your power 
to perform some office of kindness to others, you 
will find your good-will toward all increasing. 
You will be universally beloved, and every one 
will be kind to you. See that little girl ! She 
has run back to assist her little brother, who has 
lost his shoe in the mud. How kindly she 
speaks to him, to soothe his feelings and wipe 
his tears ! Some sisters that I have seen would 
have been impatient of the delay, and scolded 
him in a cross and angry manner for the tiouble 
he made. But with a heart full of sympathy, she 
forgets herself, and is intent only on helping him 
out of trouble, and quieting his grief. But she 
has hardly got under way again, before she meets 
a little girl, who has just fallen down and spilled 
her berries, crying over her loss. Without once 
thinking of the trouble it would give her, she 
speaks kindly to the little girl, helps her pick up 



142 DISINTERESTEDNESS. 

the lost fruit, and then assists her to pick enough 
more to make up her loss. Every where she is 
just so, always glad of an opportunity to show 
kindness to every one she meets. And she gets 
her pay as she goes along. The happiness she 
feels, in thus being able to contribute to the 
comfort of others, is far beyond any thing she 
could receive from mere selfish enjoyment. And, 
in addition to this, she gets the good-will of 
others, which makes them kind to her in re- 
turn. 

7. Keep self out of view, and show an 

INTEREST IN THE AFFAIRS OF OTHERS. This 

will not only interest others in you, but it will 
tend to stifle selfishness in your own heart, and 
to cultivate disinterested feeling. Sympathize 
with others ; enter into their feelings ; and en- 
deavor, in heart and feeling, to make their inter- 
est your own ; so that there may be a soil for 
disinterested feeling to grow in. If you see 
others enjoying themselves, rejoice with them. 
Make the case your own, and be glad that they 
have occasion to rejoice. " Rejoice with them 
that do rejoice." If you have truly benevo- 
lent feelings, it will certainly be an occasion of 
joy to you to see them prosperous and happy, 
whoever they are. On the other hand, sympa- 
thize with misery and distress. "Weep with 



DISINTERESTEDNESS. 143 

them that weep." Wherever you see misery, 
let it affect your heart. And never fail, if it is 
in your power, to offer relief. And, often, you 
can afford the best relief to those of your own 
age, — your companions, but especially your in 
feriors, — by showing that you are affected with 
their troubles, that you sympathize with them. 
Cultivate the habit of feeling for others. When 
you see or read of the sufferings of the poor, 
when you read of the condition of the heathen, 
who know not the way of salvation, let your 
sympathies flow forth toward them. Learn to 
feel for others' woe, and it will improve your 
own heart. But, besides this, you will find 
yourself rewarded with the affections of others. 

Thus I have given you a few brief hints, to 
show how the affections may be cultivated. I 
must leave you to apply them in practice to 
every-day life, and to carry out the principle, 
in its application to all the circumstances in 
which you may be placed ; w T hich principle is, 
as much as possible, to repress and refrain from 
exercising every bad feeling or affection, and to 
cherish and cultivate the good, bringing them 
into exercise on every fit occasion, that they 
may grow into habits. 

You will see, by what I have said under the 
various heads of this chapter, that the idea o* 



144 EDUCATING THE HEART. 

educating the heart is no mere figure of speech t 
but a reality, of great importance to your char- 
acter and well-being through life. Your pa- 
rents and teachers will, of course, pay atten- 
tion to this matter; but they cannot succeed 
in it without your cooperation. And with you 
it must be an every-day work. You must carry 
it out in all your conduct and feelings, and seek 
the grace of God to aid you in so difficult a 
work. Without an educated heart, you will 
never be fit to fill the station designed for a 
woman. A woman's excellence and influence 
lie in the heart; and no outward accomplish- 
ments can compensate for the want of a good 
heart 



145 



CHAPTER XV. 

EDUCATION OF THE MIND. 

The term Mind is often employed to signify 
all the faculties of the soul. But I shall use it 
in application to the intellectual faculties, in dis- 
tinction from the moral; as I have employed 
heart to denote the moral, in distinction from the 
intellectual. I shall not undertake to give a 
strictly philosophical distinction of the mental 
faculties, but shall comprehend them in the 
following division, which is sufficient for my 
purpose, to wit: Perception, Reason or Under- 
standing, Judgment, Memory, and Imagination. 
Perception is the faculty that receives ideas 
into the mind ; as, when you look at a tree, im- 
mediately the idea of a tree is impressed on the 
mind through the sense of sight; or, when you 
touch an object, the idea of that object is im- 
pressed on your mind through the sense of 
touch ; or, you may receive the idea of a spirit, 
from the explanations which you hear or read. 

The Reason or Understanding, is the fac- 
ulty that considers, analyzes, and compares ideas 
13 



146 MENTAL FACULTIES. 

received into the mind, and forms conclusions 
concerning them. For example, suppose you 
had never seen a watch: one is presented to 
you, and, as soon as your eye rests upon it, you 
form an idea respecting it. Perhaps this idea is 
no more than that it is a very curious object. 
But, immediately, your understanding is employed 
in considering what it is, the perceptive faculty 
still being occupied in further discoveries. From 
the fact that there is motion, you conclude there 
must be some power within it ; for motion is 
not produced without power. Here is consider- 
ation and conclusion, which is a regular opera- 
tion of reason. But, to make further discoveries, 
you open the watch, to examine its parts. This 
is analyzing. You examine all the parts that 
you can see, on removing the case. You still see 
motion — all the wheels moving in regular order; 
but the cause of the motion, the power that 
moves, is yet unseen. You perceive a chain 
wound around a wheel, and attached to another 
wheel, around which it is slowly winding itself; 
and this chain appears to regulate the whole 
movement. You conclude that the power must 
be in this last-named wheel. Here is a con- 
clusion from analyzing, or examining the parts 
separately. 

The Judgment is the same as what is popu- 



COMMON SENSE. 147 

larly styled common sense. It is that faculty which 
pronounces a decision, in view of all the infor- 
mation before the mind, in any given case. For 
example, if you wish to determine what school 
you will attend, y^u first obtain all the informa- 
tion you can respecting the different schools that 
claim your attention. You consider and com- 
pare the advantages of each ; and you decide 
according to your impression of their compara- 
tive merits. The faculty which forms this de- 
cision is called the judgment. You will readily 
perceive how very important this faculty is ; for 
a person may be very learned, and yet a very 
great dunce in every thing of a practical nature, 
if he fails in judgment or common sense. His 
learning will be of very little use to him, be- 
cause he has not sense to use it to advantage. 

The Memory is the faculty which retains the 
knowledge that is received into the mind. It is 
a wonderful faculty. It may be compared to an 
immense closet, with a countless number and 
variety of shelves, drawers, and cells, in which 
articles are stored away for future use, only one 
of which can be examined by the proprietor at 
the same time, and yet so arranged that he knows 
just where to look for the article he wants. It is 
supposed that no impression, once made upon the 
memory, can be obliterated; and yet the im- 



148 IMAGINATION. 

pression may not be called up for years. It lies 
there, till some association of ideas brings it up 
again ; the faculty not being able to present more 
than one object distinctly before the mind at the 
same instant. 

The Imagination is that faculty which forms 
pictures in the mind of real or unreal scenes. It 
is the faculty that you exercise in your fanciful 
plays, and when your mind runs forward to the 
time that you expect to be engaged in the busy 
scenes of life, and you picture to yourself pleas- 
ures and enjoyments in prospect. It is the fac- 
ulty chiefly exercised by the poet and the writer 
of fiction. 

You will, perhaps, be tired of this explanation; 
but it was necessary, in order to prepare the way 
for what I have to say on the education of the 
mind. From the definition of education already 
given, you will perceive that my ideas differ 
very much from those entertained by most young 
people. Ask a young person what he is going 
to school for, and he will answer, " To learn" 
And his idea of learning is, simply, to acquire 
knowledge. This, however, is but a small part 
of the object of education. And this idea often 
leads youth to judge that much of what they are 
required to study is of no value to them; be- 
cause they think they shall have no use for the 



OBJECTS OF EDUCATION. 149 

particular science they are studying, in practical 
life. The chief objects of mental education are, 
to cultivate and discipline the mind, and to 
store it with those great facts and principles 
which compose the elements of all knowledge. 
The studies to be pursued, then, are to be chosen 
with reference to these objects, and not merely 
for the purpose of making the mind a vast store- 
house of knowledge. This may be done, and 
yet leave it a mere lumber-room. For without 
the capacity to analyze, and turn it to account, 
all the knowledge in the world is but useless 
lumber. It is of great importance that young 
people should understand and appreciate this 
principle, because it is intimately connected with 
their success in acquiring a good education. To 
this end, it is necessary that they should coop- 
erate with their parents and teachers. This they 
will never be ready to do, if they suppose the 
only object of study is, to acquire a knowledge 
of the particular branches they are set to learn ; 
for they cannot see the use of them. But, under- 
standing the design of education to be, to dis- 
cipline the mind, and furnish it with the elements 
of knowledge, there is no science, no branch 
of learning, but what is useful for these objects ; 
and the only question, where education cannot 
be liberal, is, What branches will best secure 
these ends ? 

13* 



150 MENTAL DISCIPLINE. 

This understanding of the objects of educa- 
tion is also necessary, to stimulate the young 
to prosecute their studies in the most profitable 
manner. If their object were merely to acquire 
knowledge, the more aid they could get from 
their teachers the better, because they would 
thus obtain information the more rapidly. But 
the object being to discipline the mind, call 
forth its energies, and obtain a thorough knowl- 
edge of elementary principles, what is stud- 
ied oat, by the unaided efforts of the pupil, is 
worth a hundred times more than that which 
is communicated by an instructor. The very 
effort of the mind which is requisite to study 
out a sum in arithmetic, or a difficult sentence 
in language, is worth more than it costs, for the 
increased power which it imparts to the faculties 
so exercised. The principles involved in the 
case will, also, by this effort, be more deeply 
impressed upon the mind. Such efforts are also 
exceedingly valuable, for the confidence which 
they inspire in one's power of accomplishment. 
I do not mean to commend self-confidence in a 
bad sense. For any one to be so confident of 
his own power as to think he can do things 
which he cannot, or to fancy himself qualified 
for stations which he is not able to fill, is foolish 
and vain. But, to know one's own ability to 



INDEPENDENT EFFORT. I5i 

do, and have confidence in it, is indispensable to 
success in any undertaking. And this confi- 
dence is inspired by unaided efforts to overcome 
difficulties in the process of education. As an 
instance of this, I recollect, when a boy, of en- 
countering a very difficult sum in arithmetic. 
After spending a considerable time on it, with- 
out success, I sought the aid of the school 
teacher, who failed to render me any assistance. 
I then applied to several other persons, none of 
whom could give me the desired information. 
Thus I was thrown back upon my own resources. 
I studied upon it several days without success. 
After worrying my head with it one evening, I 
retired to rest, and dreamed out the whole pro- 
cess. I do not suppose there was any thing 
supernatural in my dream ; but the sum was the 
absorbing subject of my thoughts, and when 
sleep had closed the senses, they still ran on the 
same subject. Rising in the morning with a 
clear head, and examining the question anew, 
it all opened up to my mind with perfect clear- 
ness ; all difficulty vanished, and in a few mo- 
ments the problem was solved. I can scarcely 
point to any single event, which has had more 
influence upon the whole course of my life than 
this. It gave me confidence in my ability to 
succeed in any reasonable undertaking. But 



152 OVERCOMING DIFFICULTIES. 

for this confidence, I should never have thought 
of entering upon the most useful undertakings 
of my life. But for this, you would never have 
seen this book, nor any other of the numerous 
works which I have been enabled to furnish for 
the benefit of the young. I mention this cir- 
cumstance here, for the purpose of encouraging 
you to independent mental effort. In prosecut- 
ing your studies, endeavor always, if possible, 
to overcome every difficulty without the aid of 
others. This practice, besides giving you the 
confidence of which I have spoken, will give 
you a much better knowledge of the branches 
you are pursuing, and enable you, as you ad- 
vance, to proceed much more rapidly. Every 
difficulty you overcome, by your own unaided 
efforts, will make the next difficulty less. And 
though at first you will proceed more slowly, 
your habit of independent investigation will 
soon enable you to outstrip all those who are 
still held in the leading-strings of their teachers. 
A child will learn to walk much sooner by being 
let alone, than to be provided with a go-cart. 
Your studies, pursued in this manner, will be 
much more interesting; for you are interested 
in any study just in proportion to the effort of 
mind it costs you. 

The perceptive faculty is developed first of 



SYMMETRY OF MIND. 153 

all. It begins to be exercised by the child be- 
fore it can speak, or even understand language. 
'Reason and judgment are more slow in their 
development, though they begin to be exercised 
at a very early period. Memory is exercised as 
soon as ideas are received into the mind. The 
imagination, in the natural course of things, is 
developed latest of all ; but it is often forced out 
too early, like flowers in a hot-bed, in which 
case it works great injury to the mind. 

You will perceive the great importance of 
bringing out the several faculties of the mind in 
their due proportion. If the memory is chiefly 
cultivated, you will have a great amount of 
knowledge floating loosely in your mind, but it 
will be of very little use. But the proper culti- 
vation of the memory is indispensable, in order 
to render your knowledge available. Nor will 
it do for you to adopt the notion that nothing is 
to be committed to the keeping of the memory 
which is not fully understood. The memory is 
a servant, which must consent to do some things 
without knowing the reason why. The imagi- 
nation is the beautiful flower that crowns the 
top of the plant. But if forced out too early, or 
out of due proportion, it will cover the stalk 
with false blossoms, which, in a little time, will 
wither, and leave it dry and useless. The per 



154 INTELLECTUAL CULTURE. 

ception, reason, and judgment, require a long 
course of vigorous exercise and severe training, 
in order to lay a solid foundation of character. 

I shall leave this subject here, without sug 
gesting any particular means of cultivating the 
mind, leaving you to apply the principles here 
laid down to your ordinary studies. But in 
several subsequent chapters, I shall have some 
reference to what I have said here. 



155 



CHAPTER XVI. 

READING. 

Reading occupies a very important place in 
education. It is one of the principal means of 
treasuring up knowledge. It is, therefore, highly 
necessary that a taste for reading should be early 
cultivated. But a mere taste for reading, un- 
controlled by intelligent principle, is a dangerous 
appetite. It may lead to ruinous consequences. 
The habit of reading merely for amusement , is a 
dangerous habit. Reading for amusement fur- 
nishes a constant temptation for reading what is 
injurious. It promotes, also, an unprofitable 
manner of reading. Reading in a hasty and 
cursory manner, without exercising your own 
thoughts upon what you read, induces a bad 
habit of mind. To profit by reading depends, 
not so much on the quantity which is read, as 
upon the manner in which it is read. You may 
read a great deal, in a gormandizing way, as 
the glutton consumes food, and yet be none the 
better, but the worse for what you read. 

If you would profit by reading, you must, m 



156 DANGER OF BAD BOOKS. 

the first place, be careful what you read. There 
are a multitude of books, pamphlets, periodicals, 
and newspapers, in circulation at the present 
day, which cannot be read, especially by the 
young, without great injury, both to the mind 
and heart. If any one should propose to you to 
associate with men and women of the lowest and 
most abandoned character, you would shrink 
from the thought — you would be indignant at 
the proposition. But it is not the mere bodily 
presence of such characters that makes their so- 
ciety dangerous. It is the communion which 
you have with their minds and hearts, in their 
conduct and conversation. But a great portion 
of the popular literature of the day is written by 
such characters. By reading their writings, you 
come into communion with their minds and 
hearts, as much as if you were personally in 
their company. In their writings, the fancies 
which fill their corrupt minds, and the false and 
dangerous principles which dwell in their de- 
praved hearts, are transferred to paper, to cor- 
rupt the unwary reader. Here are, likewise, 
glowing descriptions of evil conduct, more fasci- 
nating to the youthful heart than the example 
itself would be, because the mischief is artfully 
concealed behind the drapery of fine literary 
\tste, and bewtifn 1 language. There are, like- 



OBJECTS OF READING. 157 

wise, many such writings, the productions of 
persons of moral lives, but of corrupt principles, 
which are equally dangerous. You would not 
associate with a person whom you knew to be 
an unprincipled character, even though he might 
be outwardly moral. He would be the more 
dangerous, because you would be less on your 
guard. If it is dangerous to keep company with 
persons of bad character or bad principles, it is 
much more so to keep company with bad books. 

I have treated at large on the subject of novel- 
reading, and other objectionable writings, in my 
" Young Lady's Guide ; " and to that I must 
refer you, for my reasons, more at length, for 
condemning such reading. I shall here only 
suggest, for the regulation of your reading, a 
few simple rules. 

1. Always have some definite object in 
view, in your reading. — While pursuing your 
education, you will be so severely taxed with 
hard study, that reading merely for diversion or 
amusement does not furnish the relaxation which 
you need. It keeps the body idle and the mind 
1 still in exercise ; whereas, the diversion which 
you need, is something that will exercise the 
body and relax the mind. If your object is diver- 
sion, then it is better to seek it in useful labor, 
sprightly amusements, or healthful walks. I can 
14 



158 READING FOR AMUSEMENT. 

think of nothing more injurious to the young 
than spending the hours in which they are re- 
leased from study, bending over novels, or the 
light literature of our trashy periodicals. Not 
only is the health seriously injured by such means, 
but the mind loses its vigor. The high stimulus 
applied to the imagination creates a kind of 
mental intoxication, which renders study insipid 
and irksome. But reading is an important part 
of education, and some time should be devoted 
to it. Instead of mere amusement, however, 
there are higher objects to be aimed at. These 
are, 1st, to store the mind with useful knowl- 
edge ; 2d, to cultivate a correct taste ; 3d, to 
make salutary impressions upon the heart. For 
the first, you may read approved works on all 
the various branches of knowledge ; as his- 
tory, biography, travels, science, and religious 
truth. For the second, you may read such 
works of imagination and literary taste as are 
perfectly free from objection, on the score of 
religion and morality, — and these but sparingly 
at your age; for the third, such practical works 
of piety as you will find in the Sabbath school 
library. But, for all these purposes, the Bibla 
is the great Book of books. It contains his- 
tory, biography, poetry, travels, and doctrinal 
and practical essays. Any plan of reading will 



.MORAL INTOXICATION. 159 

Se essentially defective, which does not contem- 
plate the daily reading of the Bible. You ought 
to calculate on reading it through, in course, 
every year of your life. 

2. Be exceedingly careful what you read. 
— Do not take up a book, paper, or periodical, 
that happens to fall in your way, because you 
have nothing else to read By so doing, you 
will expose yourself to great evils. But, though 
a book be not decidedly objectionable, it may 
not be worth reading. There are so many good 
books, at the present day, that it is not worth 
while to spend time over what is of little value ; 
and it is better to read the Bible alone, than to 
spend time over a poor book. Avoid, especially, 
the fictitious stories that you will find in news- 
papers and popular magazines. They are gen- 
erally the worst species of fiction, and tend 
strongly to induce a vitiated taste, and an appe- 
tite for novel-reading. If you once become ac- 
customed to such reading, you will find it pro- 
duce a kind of moral intoxication, so that you 
will feel as uneasy without it, as the drunkard 
without his cups, or the smoker without his pipe. 
It is much the safer way for young people to be 
wholly directed by their parents, (or their teach- 
ers, if away from home,) in the choice of their 
reading. Make it a rule never to read any book, 



160 THINK AS YOU READ. 

pamphlet, or periodical, till you have first ascer 
tained from your parents, teachers, or minister, 
that it is safe, and worth reading. 

3. Think as you read. — Do not drink in 
the thoughts of others as you drink water ; but 
examine them, and see whether they carry convic- 
tion to your own mind ; and if they do, think them 
over, till they become incorporated with your 
own thoughts, part and parcel of your own mind. 
Lay up facts and principles in your memory 
Let the beautiful thoughts and striking ideas 
that you discover be treasured up as so many 
gems and precious stones, to enrich and beautify 
your own mind. And let your heart be im- 
pressed and benefited by the practical thoughts 
you find addressed to it. 

4. Redeem time for reading. — Although 
it would be improper for you to take the time 
appropriated for study, or to rob yourself of 
needful diversion, yet you may, by careful econ- 
omy, save some time every day for reading. A 
great deal of time is thrown away by the indul- 
gence of dilatory habits, or consumed in a care- 
less, sauntering vacancy. If you follow system, 
and have a time for every thing, and endeavor to 
do every thing with despatch, in its proper sea- 
son, you will have time enough for every thing 
that is necessary to be done. 



161 



CHAPTER XVII. 

WRITING. 

Writing, or composing, is one of the best 
exercises of the mind. It is, however, I am 
sorry to say, an exercise to which young people 
generally show a great aversion. One reason, 
perhaps, is, that, to write well, requires hard 
thinking. But I am inclined to think the chief 
reason is, that the difficulties of writing are 
magnified. There is, also, a want of wisdom 
in the choice of subjects. Themes are fre- 
quently selected for first efforts, which require 
deep, abstract thinking ; and the mind not being 
able to grasp them, there is a want of thought, 
which discourages new beginners. The first 
attempts should be made upon subjects that are 
easy and well understood ; such as a well-studied 
portion of history, a well-known story, or a 
description of some familiar scene ; the object 
being to clothe it in suitable language, and to 
make such reflections upon it as occur to the 
mind. Writing is but thinking on paper ; and 
14* 



162 DIRECTIONS. 

if you have any thoughts at all, you may commit 
them to writing. 

Another fault in young beginners is, viewing 
composition as a task imposed on them by their 
teachers, and making it their chief object to 
cover a certain quantity of paper with writing ; 
and so the sooner this task is discharged the 
better. But you must have a higher aim than 
this, or you will never be a good writer. Such 
efforts are positively injurious. They promote 
a careless, negligent habit of writing. One 
well-written composition, which costs days of 
hard study, is worth more, as a discipline of 
mind, than a hundred off-hand, careless pro- 
ductions. Indeed, one good, successful effort 
will greatly diminish every succeeding effort, 
and make writing easy. You will do well, then, 
first to select your subject some time before 
you write, and think it over and study it, and 
have your ideas arranged in your mind before 
you begin. Then write with care, selecting 
the best expressions, and clothing your thoughts 
in the best dress. Then carefully and repeat- 
edly read it over, and correct it, studying every 
sentence, weighing every expression, and making 
every possible improvement. Then lay it aside 
awhile, and afterwards copy it, with such in> 



LETTER-WRITING. 163 

provements as occur at the time. Then lay it 
aside, and after some days revise it again, and 
see what further improvements and corrections 
you can make, and copy it a second time. If you 
repeat this process half a dozen times, it will be 
all the better. Nor will the time you spend upon 
it be lost. One such composition will conquer 
all the difficulties in the way of writing; and 
every time you repeat such an effort, you will 
find your mind expanding, and your thoughts 
multiplying, so that, very soon, writing will be- 
come an easy and delightful exercise ; and you 
will, at length, be able to make the first draught so 
nearly perfect that it will not need copying. But 
you never will make a good writer by off-hand, 
careless efforts. 

Letter-writing, however, is a very different af- 
fair. Its beauty consists in its simplicity, ease, and 
freedom from formality. The best rule that can 
be given for letter-writing is, to imagine the per- 
son present whom you are addressing, and write 
just what you would say in conversation. All at- 
tempts at effort, in letter-writing, are out of place. 
The detail of particulars, such as your corre- 
spondent would be interested to know, and the 
expression of your own feelings, are the great 
excellences of this kind of writing. Nothing 



164 LETTER-WRITING. 

disappoints a person more than to receive a let- 
ter full of fine sentiments, or didactic matter, 
such as he might find in books, while the very 
information which he desired is left out, and 
perhaps an apology at the close for not giving 
the news, because the sheet is full. In a let- 
ter, we want information of the welfare of our 
friends, together with the warm gush of feeling 
which fills their hearts. These are the true ex- 
cellences of epistolary writing. 



165 



CHAPTER XVIII 

INDOLENCE. 

There is no greater enemy to improvement 
than an indolent spirit. An aversion to effort 
paralyzes every noble desire, and defeats every 
attempt at advancement. If you are naturally 
indolent, you must put on resolution to over- 
come it, and strive against it with untiring vigi- 
lance. There is not a single point, in the pro- 
cess of education, at which this hydra-headed 
monster will not meet you. " The slothful man 
saith there is a lion without, I shall be slain in 
the street." There is always a lion in the way, 
when slothful spirits are called upon to make 
any exertion. " I can't" is the sovereign arbi- 
ter of their destiny. It prevents their attempt- 
ing any thing difficult or laborious. If required 
to write a composition, they can't think of any 
thing to write about. The Latin lesson is dif- 
ficult ; this word they can't find ; that sentence 
they can't read. The sums in arithmetic are so 
hard, they can't do them. And so this lion in 
the way defeats every thing. But those who ex- 



166 INDOLENCE AND ACTIVITY CONTRASTED. 

pect ever to be any thing, must not suffer such 
a word as caji't in their vocabulary. 

It is the same with labor. The indolent dread 
all exertion. When requested to do any thing, 
they have something else to do first, which their 
indolence has left unfinished ; or they have some 
other reason to give why they should not attempt 
it. But if nothing else will do, the sluggard's 
excuse, " I caji't" is always at hand. Were it 
not for the injury to them, it would be far more 
agreeable to do, one's self, what is desired of 
them, than to encounter the painful scowls that 
clothe the brow, when they think of making an 
effort. Solomon has described this disposition 
to the life: — " The slothful man putteth his 
hand in his bosom : it grieveth him to take it 
out again." 

But indolence is a source of great misery. 
There are none so happy as those who are al- 
ways active. I do not mean that they should 
give themselves no relaxation from severe effort. 
But relaxation does not suppose idleness. To sit 
and fold one's hands, and do nothing, serves no 
purpose. Change of employment is the best re- 
creation. And from the idea of employment, I 
would not exclude active and healthful sports, 
provided they are kept within due bounds. But 
to sit idly staring at vacancy is intolerable 



IDLENESS A WASTE OF LIFE. 167 

There is no enjoyment in it. It is a stagnation 
of body and mind. An indolent person is, to 
the active and industrious, what a stagnant pool 
is to the clear and beautiful lake. Employment 
contributes greatly to enjoyment. It invigorates 
the body, sharpens the intellect, and promotes 
cheerfulness of spirits; while indolence makes 
"a torpid body, a vacant mind, and a peevish, dis- 
contented spirit. 

Indolence is a great waste of existence. Sup- 
pose you live to the age of seventy years, and 
squander in idleness one hour a day, you will 
absolutely throw away about three years of your 
existence. And if we consider that this is taken 
from the waking hours of the day, it should be 
reckoned six years. Are you willing, by idle- 
ness, to shorten your life six years ? Then take 
care of the moments. Never fritter away time 
in doing nothing. Whatever you do, whether 
study, work, or play, enter into it with spirit 
and energy ; and never waste your time in saun- 
tering and doing nothing. " Whatsoever thy 
hand findeth to do, do it with thy might ; for 
there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, 
nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest." 



168 



CHAPTER XIX. 

ON DOING ONE THING AT A TIME. 

What is worth doing at all is worth the 
undivided attention; but Julia can never be 
satisfied to do but one thing at a time. By at- 
tempting to read or to play while dressing, she 
consumes double the time that is necessary. 
She reads at the table, and, in consequence, keeps 
the table waiting for her to finish her meal. She 
will turn her work into play, and thus slight her 
work, and have it to do over again. By the time 
she gets fairly interested in her lesson, her 
attention is arrested by something else, and she 
stops to look or listen. Or she insensibly falls 
into a reverie, and is engaged in building aerial 
castles, till something happens to call back her 
spirit from the fairy world. Ihis will perhaps 
be repeated a dozen times in the study of one 
lesson. The consequence is, the lesson is ac- 
quired but imperfectly, while twice the needful 
time has been spent upon it. At the same time, 
nothing else has been accomplished. This is 
what I call busy idleness. 



SYSTEM. 169 

The true way to accomplish the most, and to 
do it in the best manner, is to confine the atten- 
tion strictly to the thing in hand, and to bend all 
the energies of the mind to that one object, aim- 
ing to do it in the best possible manner, in the 
least possible time. By adopting this principle, 
and acting upon it, you will be surprised to find 
how much more expeditiously you will accom- 
plish what you undertake, and how much better 
it will be done. It is indispensable to success 
in any undertaking. 

Closely connected with this subject, is the 
systematic division of time. Where there is no 
system, one duty will jostle another, and much 
time will be wasted in considering what to do 
next ; all of which would be avoided, by having 
a regular routine of duties, one coming after the 
other in regular order, and so having a set time 
for each. This cannot be carried out perfectly, 
because there will every day be something to do 
that was not anticipated. But it may be so far 
pursued as to avoid confusion and waste o # 
time. 

15 



170 



CHAPTER XX 

ON FINISHING WHAT IS BEGUN. 

Beginning things and leaving them unfinished, 
exerts a bad influence in the formation of char- 
acter. If it becomes a habit, it will make you 
so fickle that no one will put confidence in 
you. There is Jane Henderson. If you go into 
her room, you will find her table strewed, and 
her drawers filled, with compositions begun and 
not completed ; scraps of verses, but no poem 
finished; a dozen letters begun, but not one 
completed ; bits of lace commenced, and laid 
aside ; a dozen different squares of patch-work 
begun, but not one fall square among them all. 
She wants energy and perseverance to finish 
what she begins ; and thus she wastes her time in 
frivolous pursuits. She is very ready to begin ; 
but before she has completed what is begun, she 
thinks of something else that she wishes to do ; 
or she grows weary of what she is upon, and so 
leaves it, and tries something else. She lives to 
no purpose, for she completes nothing; and she 
might as well do nothing, as to complete nothing. 



FINISH WHAT YOU BEGIN. 171 

If you indulge this practice, it will grow upon 
you, till you will become weak, irresolute, fickle, 
and good for nothing. To avoid this, begin 
nothing that is not worth finishing, or that you 
have not good reason to think you will be able 
to finish. But when you have begun, resolutely 
persevere till you have finished. There is a 
strong temptation, with the young, to abandon 
an undertaking, because of the difficulties in the 
way ; but, if you persevere, and conquer the 
difficulties you meet with, you will gain confi- 
dence in yourself, and the next time, persever- 
ance in your undertakings will be more easy. 
You may, however, make a mistake, and begin 
what you cannot or ought not to perform; in 
which case, perseverance would only increase 
the evil. 



172 



CHAPTER XXI. 

CHOICE OF SOCIETY, AND FORMATION OP 
FRIENDSHIPS. 

Character is formed under a great variety 
of influences. Sometimes a very trifling circum- 
stance gives direction to the whole course of 
one's life. And every incident that occurs, from 
day to day, is exerting a silent, gradual influ- 
ence, in the formation of your character. Among 
these influences, none are more direct and pow- 
erful than that exerted upon us by the com- 
panions with whom we associate ; for we insen- 
sibly fall into their habits. t This is especially 
true in childhood and youth, when the character 
is plastic, like soft wax, — easily impressed. 

But we cannot avoid associating, to some ex- 
tent, with those whose influence is injurious. It 
is necessary, then, for us to distinguish society 
into general and particular. General society is 
that with which we are compelled to associate. 
Particular society is that which we choose for 
ourselves. In school, and in all public places, 
you are under the necessity of associating some- 



INTIMATE FRIENDSHIPS. 173 

what with all. But those whom you meet, in 
such circumstances, you are not compelled to 
make intimate friends. You may be courteous 
and polite to all, wherever and whenever you 
meet them, and yet maintain such a prudent 
reserve, and cautious deportment, as not to be 
much exposed to contamination, if they should 
not prove suitable companions. 

But every one needs intimate friends ; and it 
is necessary that these should be well chosen. 
A bad friend may prove your ruin. You should 
therefore be slow and cautious in the formation 
of intimacies and friendships. Do not be sud- 
denly taken with any one, and so enter into a 
hasty friendship; for you may be mistaken, 
and soon repent of it. There is much force in 
the old adage, " All is not gold that shines." 
A pleasing exterior often conceals a corrupt 
heart. Before you enter into close intimacies 
or friendships, study the characters of the per- 
sons whom you propose to choose for compan- 
ions. Watch their behavior and conversation ; 
and if you discover any bad habits indulged, or 
any thing that indicates a want of principle, let 
them not become your companions. If you 
discover that they disregard any of the com- 
mandments of God, set them down as unsafe 
associates. They will not only be sure to lead 
15* 



174 FORMATION OF FRIENDSHIPS. 

you astray, but you can place no dependence 
upon their fidelity If they will break one of 
God's commands, they will another ; and you 
can put no confidence in them. But even 
where you discover no such thing, ask the opin- 
ion of your parents respecting them before you 
choose them as your friends. Yet, while you 
are in suspense about the matter, treat them 
courteously and kindly. But when you have 
determined to seek their friendship, do not im- 
pose your friendship on them against their will. 
Remember that they have the same right as 
yourself to the choice of their friends; and 
they may see some objection to the formation 
of a friendship with yourself. Be delicate, 
therefore, in your advances, and give them an 
opportunity to come half way. A friendship 
cautiously and slowly formed will be much more 
likely to last than one that is formed in haste. 
But let the number of your intimate and con 
fidential friends be small. It is better to have 
a few select, choice, and warm friends, than to 
have a great number, less carefully chosen, 
whose attachment is less warm and ardent. But 
you must not refuse to associate at all with the 
mass of the society where you belong; espe- 
cially, if you live in the country. You must 
meet them kindly and courteously, on all occa- 



BE COURTEOUS TO ALL. 175 

sions where the society in general in which you 
move is called together. You must not affect 
exclusiveness, nor confine yourself to the com- 
pany of your particular friends, at such times. 
But be careful that you do not expose yourself 
to evil influences. 

You ought not, at present, to form any in- 
timate friendships with the other sex. Such 
friendships, at your age, are dangerous; and 
if not productive of any serious present evils, 
they will probably be subjects of regret when 
you come to years of maturity ; for attachments 
may be formed that your judgment will then 
disapprove. 



176 



CHAPTER XXII. 

ORNAMENTAL EDUCATION. 

Nature abounds with profusion of ornament. 
The trees of the forest are crowned with beauty. 
The flowers of the field are arrayed in the most 
gorgeous combination of beautiful colors, sur- 
passing the imitation of man. The bowels of 
the earth enclose the richest gems ; and even its 
dens and caverns are garnished with beautiful 
workmanship, far exceeding the highest achieve- 
ments of art. The animate creation, also, dis- 
plays the same love of beauty. The wild beasts 
are arrayed in the richest furs. The fowls of 
the air, and even the serpent that crawls on the 
earth, are adorned with a profusion of rich and 
beautiful colors. And man, the crowning work 
of the Creator, is adorned with symmetry of 
shape and beauty of features. But, above all, 
the mind itself has one entire faculty for orna- 
ment. The imagination is the flower of the 
mind, which crowns the intellectual tree with 
beauty and glory. 

The voice of nature, therefore, forbids us to 



SOLID BRANCHES FIRST. 177 

banish ornament from our systems of education. 
But equally does the same voice forbid us to 
make ornament the chief end of education. It 
is neither the beginning nor end of it. The 
rose does not grow on the root of the tree, nor 
does the plant, at its first growth, display its gor- 
geous colors. The trunk of the tree, the stem 
of the plant, the branches and the leaves, all 
precede the flower. Those are the substan- 
tiate, this is the ornament. The former must be 
matured before the latter can appear. So, like- 
wise, the substantial parts of education must take 
precedence of the ornamental. And the flower 
itself is not merely nor mainly for beauty ; but it 
is in order to fruit. So the ornamental branches 
of education, in their proper places, are to be 
pursued with an eye to usefulness. However, 
the flower must be a long time budding before 
it blooms ; and so may the ornamental branches 
of education be commenced and pursued a long 
time before they arrive at such perfection as to 
display their beauty, or discover their useful- 
ness. 

The solid branches, then, are to occupy the 
first place, and receive the chief attention. But 
the ornamental branches, at their proper time 
and in their proper places, are not to be neg- 
lected. Young people, however, are inclined to 



178 MUSIC, DRAWING, AND PAINTING. 

give them an undue importance, and disposed to 
pursue them to the neglect of that which is solid 
and substantial. David compared the daughters 
of Jerusalem to " corner stones, polished after 
the similitude of a palace." But the . stones 
must be quarried and beaten out into the proper 
shape, before they can be polished. Polishing is 
the last work. This shows the place that is to be 
given to ornamental education. No one can re- 
ceive an ornamental education merely. There 
must first be a solid superstructure ; after which 
comes the polish. There are, however, some or- 
namental branches, which need to be pursued a 
long time, before they arrive at any degree of 
perfection. Such are music, drawing, and paint- 
ing. They cultivate particular faculties; and 
this cultivation must necessarily be slow in its 
progress. Music, as a science, is perhaps as 
useful a discipline of mind as any other study. 
The cultivation of the voice and of the ear, is 
also of great importance. So, also, is the skil- 
ful use of the fingers, in playing on instruments ; 
which is much more easily acquired in childhood 
than at any other period of life. 

Drawing and painting cultivate the eye, and 
impart a quick perception of beauty. They also 
give the power of transferring to paper the im- 
age imprinted on the mind through the sense of 



ONE-SIDED EDUCATION. 179 

sight. These branches are not merely orna- 
mental, but often highly useful. 

A good education is that process by which all 
the faculties and powers of the mind are devel- 
oped in due proportion. That is a one-sided 
education which cultivates highly some particu- 
lar faculties, while it neglects others. Such a 
mind will be deformed and out of proportion. 
To produce a well-balanced mind, the solid parts 
of education must receive the chief attention, 
because they constitute the very foundation of 
character. But it is a great mistake to conclude 
that they are all that is necessary, especially for 
females. By an exclusive attention to the solid 
branches, and that in a high degree, the charac- 
ter is rendered too masculine. There is need of 
the softening influence of those pursuits which 
are designed chiefly to embellish. And this 
should not be forgotten, in the pursuit of letters. 
The imagination and the taste should be culti- 
vated, within proper bounds, so as to give sym- 
metry of character. 

Taste is, perhaps, not a distinct faculty by it- 
self, but rather a combination of the faculties, 
concentrating them upon an object, and giving 
a nice and quick perception of beauty or de- 
formity. It is exercised with respect to lan- 
guage, in discerning its correctness and beautv 



180 TASTE. 

or its incorrectness and deformity, without any 
process of reasoning or any comparison with 
rules of grammar or rhetoric. In a similar man- 
ner, it detects and points out, at a glance, the 
beauty or the deformity, the excellences or de- 
fects, of a picture or a landscape, or whatever 
object it beholds. This faculty, or combination 
of faculties, is cultivated by the study of music, 
drawing, painting, &c, with respect to the eye 
and ear; and in the study of language, with 
respect to the conceptions of the mind, and the 
manner of expressing them. I know of nothing, 
in the whole process of education, which con- 
tributes more to personal enjoyment than the 
cultivation of a correct taste. It also greatly 
recommends one to the regard of others. And, 
if chastened with piety, it may contribute to de- 
votional feeling, by increasing our admiration of 
the beauties of creation, and through them lead- 
ing us to adore the wisdom of the Creator. 



181 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

ON AMUSEMENTS. 

The human system is formed for alternate 
labor and rest, and not for incessant activity ; 
and to provide for this, the night follows the day 
and the Sabbath the six days of labor. But not 
only is rest necessary after labor, but activity 
in a different direction. When you are carry- 
ing a burden of any kind, you find relief in a 
change of position. A poor boy was employed 
in turning a wheel, by which he was enabled to 
do something for his mother. A lady, observ- 
ing him steadily employed at what appeared to 
be a very laborious occupation, inquired whether 
he did not get tired. He replied that he was 
often very tired. " And what do you do when 
you are tired ? " she further inquired. " O," 
said he, " I take the other hand." He had 
learned that a change of position gave him rest 
Neither the mind nor the body is capable of 
being incessantly exerted, in one direction, with- 
out injury. Like the bent bow, they will lose 
their elasticity. The body, after labor, and the 
16 



182 RELAXATION NECESSARY 

mind, after study, need unbending, especially in 
youth, while the muscles of the body have not 
acquired maturity or solidity, and the powers of 
the mind are yet developing. At this period of 
life relaxation and amusement are especially ne- 
cessary; and those young persons who eschew 
all play, and confine themselves to books and la- 
bor, must, in the natural course of things, suffer 
both in health and spirits. Healthful play is 
natural to the young, throughout the whole ani- 
mal creation. The lamb, that emblem of inno- 
cence, is seen sporting in the fields, blithely 
bounding over the hills, as if desirous of ex- 
pressing a grateful sense of its Creator's good- 
ness. There is no more harm in the play of 
children than in the skipping of the lambs. It 
is necessary to restore the bent bow to its natu- 
ral elasticity. It is the voice of nature, which 
cannot be hushed. 

But having said so much, it is necessary to 
guard against improprieties and excesses in 
amusements. And yet, to determine what 
amusements are to be allowed, and what con- 
demned, is no .easy matter ; for, while some 
kinds of amusement are evil in their own nature, 
and necessarily injurious, others are evil and 
injurious only on account of their excess, or of 
the manner in which they are pursued, or of the 



TESTS OF AMUSEMENTS. 183 

evils that are associated with them. My object 
is, not so much to point out what amusements 
are wrong, as to give you some rules by which 
you can judge for yourself. 

I. Never engage in recreation at an unsuit- 
able time. — To neglect duty for the sake of 
amusement is not only wrong, but it will exert 
a bad influence upon your character. It tends 
to produce an immoderate love of amusement, 
and to break up all orderly and regular hab- 
its. Let your invariable rule be, " Business 
first, and then pleasure." Never suffer any 
kind of amusement to break in upon the time 
appropriated to labor or study. 

II. Never do any thing that is disapproved 
by your parents or guardians. — They desire 
your happiness, and will not deprive you of any 
enjoyment, unless they see good reason for it. 
They may see evil where you would not per- 
ceive it. They regard your highest welfare. 
They look beyond the present, to see what influ- 
ence these things will have on your character 
and happiness hereafter. They are also set over 
you of the Lord ; and it is your duty not only to 
submit to their authority, but to reverence their 
counsel. 

III. Engage in no amusement which is di&> 
approved by the most devoted and consisted 



184 TESTS OF AMUSEMENTS. 

Christians of your acquaintance. I do not mean 
the few cross and austere persons, who always 
wear an aspect of gloom, and cannot bear to 
see the countenances of youth lighted up with 
the smile of innocent hilarity. But I mean 
those Christians who wear an aspect of devout 
cheerfulness, and maintain a holy and consist- 
ent life. Their judgment is formed under the 
influence of devotional feeling, and will not be 
likely to be far from what is just and right. 

IV. Do nothing which you would be afraid 
God should see. — There is no darkness nor 
secret place, where you can hide yourself from 
his all-searching eye. Contemplate the Lord 
Jesus Christ as walking by your side, as he truly 
is in spirit; and do nothing which you would 
be unwilling that he should witness, if he were 
with you in his bodily presence. 

V. Do nothing the preparation for which un- 
fits you for religious duty. — If an amusement in 
which you are preparing to engage so takes up 
your mind as to interfere with your devotional 
exercises ; if your thoughts run away from the 
Bible that you are reading to anticipated pleas 
ures ; or if those pleasures occupy your thoughts 

n prayer; you may be sure you are going 
too far. 

VI. Engage in nothing on which you cannot 



TESTS OF AMUSEMENTS. 185 

first ask God's blessing. Do you desire to engage 
in any thing in which you would not wish to be 
blessed and prospered ? But God only can bless 
and prosper us in any undertaking. If, there- 
fore, your feelings would be shocked to think of 
asking God's blessing on any thing in which you 
would engage, it must be because your con- 
science tells you it is wrong. 

VII. Engage in no amusement which unfits 
you for devotional exercises. — If, on returning 
from a scene of amusement, you feel no dispo- 
sition to pray, you may be sure something is 
wrong. You had better not repeat the same 
again. 

VIII. Engage in nothing which tends to dis- 
sipate serious impressions. — Seriousness, and a 
sense of eternal things, are perfectly consistent 
with serenity and cheerfulness. But thoughtless 
mirth, or habitual levity, will drive away such 
impressions. Whatever you find has this effect 
is dangerous to your soul. 

IX. Reject such amusements as are generally 
associated with evil. — If the influences which 
surround any practice are bad, you may justly 
conclude that it is unsafe, without stopping to 
inquire into the nature of the practice itself. 
Games of chance are associated with gambling 
and dissipation ; therefore, I conclude that they 

16* 



186 TESTS OF AMUSEMENTS. 

cannot be safely pursued, even for amusement. 
Dancing, also, is associated with balls, with late 
hours, high and unnatural excitement, and dis- 
sipation ; it is therefore unsafe. You may know 
the character of any amusement by the com- 
pany in which it is found. 

X. Engage in nothing which necessarily leads 
you into temptation. — You pray every day, (or 
ought to,) " lead us not into temptation. " But 
you cannot offer up this prayer sincerely, and 
then run needlessly in the way of temptation. 
And if you throw yourself in the way of it, you 
have no reason to expect that God will deliver 
you from it. 

XI. If you engage in any recreation, and re- 
turn from it with a wounded conscience, set it 
down as evil. — A clear conscience is too valua- 
ble to be bartered for a few moments of pleas- 
ure ; and if you find your conscience accusing 
you for having engaged in any amusement, never 
repeat the experiment. 

XII. Practise no amusement which offends 
your sense of propriety. — A delicate sense of 
propriety, in regard to outward deportment, is 
in manners what conscience is in morals, and 
taste in language. It is not any thing that we 
arrive at by a process of reasoning, but what the 
mind as it were instinctively perceives It re- 



A SENSE OF PROPRIETY. 187 

sembles the sense of taste ; and by it one will 
notice any deviation from what is proper, before 
he has time to consider wherein the impropriety 
consists. There is a beauty and harmony in 
what is proper and right, which instantly strikes 
the mind with pleasure. There is a fitness of 
things, and an adaptation of one thing to another, 
in one's deportment, that strikes the beholder 
with sensations of pleasure, like those experi- 
enced on beholding the harmonious and beauti- 
ful blending of the seven colors of the rainbow. 
But when propriety is disregarded, the impres- 
sion is similar to what we might suppose would 
be produced, if the colors of the rainbow 
crossed each other at irregular angles, now blend- 
ing together in one, and now separating en- 
tirely, producing irregularity and confusion. 
The sensation produced upon the eye would 
be unpleasant, if not insufferable. Among the 
amusements which come under this rule are 
the vulgar plays that abound in low company, 
especially such as require the payment of for- 
feits, to be imposed by the victor. In such 
cases, you know not to what mortification you 
may be subjected. Frolics, in general, come 
under this head, where rude and boisterous 
plays are practised, and often to a late hour of 
the night, when all sense of propriety and even 
of courtesy is often forgotten. 



f 88 THINGS OF DOUBTFUL PROPRIETY. 

XIII. Engage in nothing of doubtful propriety. 
— The apostle Paul teaches that it is wrong to 
do any thing the propriety of which we doubt ; 
Decause, by doing that which we are not fully 
persuaded is right, we violate our conscience 
It is always best to keep on the safe side. It 
you were walking near the crater of a volcano, 
you would not venture on ground where there 
was any danger of breaking through, and falling 
mto the burning lake. You would keep on the 
ground where it was safe and sure. And so we 
should do, in regard to all questions of right and 
wrong. Never venture where the ground trem- 
bles under your feet 

XIV. Do nothing which you will remember 
with regret on your dying bed. — It is well al- 
ways to keep death in view; it has a good 
effect upon our minds. The death-bed always 
brings with it pains and sorrows enough. It is 
a sad thing to make work for repentance at such 
an hour. That is an honest hour. Then we 
shall view things in their true light. Ask your- 
self, then, before entering into any scene of 
amusement, how it will appear to you when 
you come to look back upon it from your dy- 
iiig bed. 

XV. Do nothing in the midst of which yon 
would be afraid to meet death. — When prepar- 



RIDING WITH A CORPSE. 189 

ing for a scene of pleasure, how do you know 
out you may be cut down in the midst of it ? 
Sudden death is so common that it is folly to 
be in any place or condition in which we are 
not prepared to meet it. Many persons have 
been cut down in the midst of scenes of gayety, 
and the same may occur again. A man in Ger- 
many was sitting at the gaming table. His card 
won a thousand ducats. The dealer handed 
over the money, and inquired how he would con- 
tinue the game. The man made no reply. He 
was examined, and found to be a corpse ! Simi- 
lar scenes have occurred in the ball-room. In 
the midst of the merry dance, persons have been 
called suddenly out of time into eternity. A 
gentleman and lady started in a sleigh, to ride 
some distance to a ball, in a cold winter's night. 
Some time before reaching the place, the lady 
was observed to be silent. On driving up, the 
gentleman called to her, but no answer was re- 
turned. A light was procured, and he discov 
ered, to his amazement, that he had been riding 
with a corpse ! At no moment of life are we 
exempt from sudden death. He who holds us 
in his hand has a thousand ways of extinguish- 
ing our life in a moment. He can withhold the 
breath which he gave; he can stop the vital 
pulsation instantly ; or he can break one of the 



190 THE JUDGMENT. 

thousand parts of the intricate machinery of 
which our mortal bodies are composed. No 
skill can provide against it. We ought not, 
therefore, to trust ourselves, for a single moment, 
in any place or condition where we are unwil, 
ling to meet death. 

XVI. Do nothing for which you will be afraid 
to answer at the bar of God. — There every se- 
cret thing will be revealed. What was done in 
the darkness will be judged in open day. " Re- 
joice, O young man, in thy youth ; and let thy 
heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth ; and 
walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight 
of thine eyes : but know thou that for all these 
things God will bring thee into judgment." A 
young man, on leaving home to enter the army, 
was supplied with a small Bible, which, though 
a thoughtless youth, he always carried in his 
pocket. On one occasion, after a battle, he 
took out his Bible, and observed that there was 
a bullet hole in the cover. His first impulse 
was, to turn over the leaves, and read the verse 
on which the ball rested. It was the passage 
just quoted. It brought before his mind all 
the scenes of mirth and sinful pleasure in which 
he had been engaged, and pressed upon him the 
fearful truth, that for all of them he was to be 
brought into judgment. It was the means of 



TESTS OF AMUSEMENTS. 191 

awakening him to a sense of his condition, and 
led to a change of heart and life. And why 
should not the same solemn impression rest 
upon your mind, with respect to all scenes of 
pleasure, and lead you carefully to avoid what- 
ever you would not willingly meet at that awful 
tribunal ? 

If you apply these tests to the various amuse- 
ments that are in vogue among young people, 
you may readily discern what you can safely 
pursue, and what you must sternly reject. It 
will lead you, especially, to detect the evils of 
all theatrical performances, balls, cards, and dan- 
cing parties, country frolics, and all things of 
a like nature. But it will not deprive you of 
one innocent enjoyment. A girl, ten or twelve 
years old, made a visit to a companion about 
her own age. Both of them were hopefully pious. 
On returning home, she told her mother she 
was sure Jane was a Christian. " Why do you 
think so, my daughter?" inquired the mother. 
" O," said the daughter, " she plays like a 
Christian" In her diversions she carried out 
Christian principles, and manifested a Christian 
temper. This is the true secret of innocent 
recreation ; and it cuts off all kinds of amuse- 
ment that cannot be pursued in a Christian-like 
manner. 



192 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

GOVERNMENT OF THE TONGUE. 

The apostle James says, the tongue is an 
unruly member, and that it is easier to control 
a horse or a ship, or even to tame wild beasts 
and serpents, than to govern the tongue. And, 
though a very little member, it is capable of 
doing immense mischief. He even likens it 
to a fire. A very small spark, thrown into a 
heap of dry shavings, in a wooden house, in a 
great city, will make a terrible fire. It may 
burn up the whole city. So a very few words, 
carelessly spoken by an ungoverned tongue, may 
set a whole neighborhood on fire. You cannot, 
therefore, be too careful how you employ your 
tongue. It is of the highest importance to 
your character and usefulness, that you early 
acquire the habit of controlling this unruly 
member. For the purpose of aiding you in this, 
I shall give a few simple rules. 

RULES FOR GOVERNING THE TONGUE. 

I. Think before you speak. — Many person^ 
open their mouths, and set their tongues a-going 



TALKING NONSENSE. 



193 



like the clapper of a wind-mill, as though the 
object was, to see how many words could be 
uttered in a given time, without any regard to 
their quality, — whether sense or nonsense, 
whether good, bad, or indifferent. A tongue, 
trained up in this way, will never be governed, 
and must become a source of great mischief. 
But accustom yourself, before you speak, to 
consider whether what you are going to say 
is worth speaking, or whether it can do any 
mischief. If you cultivate this habit, your 
mind will speedily acquire an activity, that will 
enable you to make this consideration without 
waiting so long before answering your compan- 
ions as to be observed ; and it will impose a salu- 
tary restraint upon your loquacity; for you will 
find others often taking the lead of conversa- 
tion instead of yourself, by seizing upon the 
pause that is made by your consideration. This 
will be an advantage to you, in two ways. It 
will give you something better to say, and will 
diminish the quantity. You will soon perceive 
that, though you say less than some of your 
companions, your words have more weight. 

II. Never allow yourself to talk nonsense. — 

The habit of careless, nonsensical talking, is 

greatly averse to the government of the tongue- 

It accustoms it to speak at random, without 

17 



194 JOKING 

regard to consequences. It often leads to the 
utterance of what is not strictly true, and thus 
insensibly diminishes the regard for truth. It 
hardens the heart, and cherishes a trifling, care- 
less spirit. Moreover, if you indulge this habit, 
your conversation will soon become silly and 
insipid. 

III. Do not allow yourself in the habit of 
joking ivith your companions. — This tends to 
cultivate severe sarcasm, which is a bad habit of 
the tongue. And, if you indulge it, your strokes 
will be too keen for your companions to bear ; 
and you will lose their friendship. 

IV. Always speak the truth. — There is no 
evil habit, which the tongue can acquire, more 
wicked and mischievous than that of speaking 
falsehood. It is in itself very wicked; but it 
is not more wicked than mischievous. If all 
were liars, there could be no happiness ; because 
all confidence would be destroyed, and no one 
would trust another. It is very offensive to God, 
who is a God of truth, and who has declared 
that all liars shall have their part in the lake 
that burns with fire and brimstone. It is a great 
affront and injury to the person that is deceived 
by it. Many young persons think nothing of 
deceiving their companions, in sport; but they 
will find that the habit of speaking what is not 



SPEAKING THE TRUTH. 195 

true, even in sport, besides being intrinsically 
wrong, will so accustom them to the utterance 
of falsehood, that they will soon lose that dread 
of a lie which used to fortify them against it. 
The habit of exaggeration, too, is a great enemy 
to truth. Where this is indulged, the practice 
of uttering falsehood, without thought or con- 
sideration, will steal on insensibly. It is neces- 
sary, therefore, in detailing circumstances, to 
state them accurately, precisely as they occurred, 
in order to cultivate the habit of truth-telling. 
Be very particular on this head. Do not allow 
yourself so little an inaccuracy, even, as to say 
you laid a book on the table, when you put i( 
on the mantel, or on the window-seat. In re- 
lating a story, it is not necessary that you should 
state every minute particular, but that what you 
do state should be exactly and circumstantially 
true. If you acquire this habit of accuracy, it 
will not only guard you against the indulgence 
of falsehood, but it will raise your character for 
truth. When people come to learn that they 
can depend upon the critical accuracy of what- 
ever you say, it will greatly increase their confi- 
dence in you. But if you grow up with the 
habit of speaking falsehood, there will be very 
little hope of your reformation, as long as you 
live. The character that has acquired an habit- 



196 TALE-BEARING. 

ual disregard of truth is most thoroughly viti- 
ated. This one habit, if indulged and cherished, 
and carried with you from childhood to youth, 
and from youth upwards, will prove your ruin. 

V Remember that all truth is not to be 
spoken at all times. — The habit of uttering all 
that you know, at random, without regard to 
times and circumstances, is productive of great 
mischief. If you accustom your tongue to this 
habit, it will lead you into great difficulties. 
There are many of our own thoughts, and many 
facts that come to our knowledge, that prudence 
would require us to keep in our own bosom, be- 
cause the utterance of them would do mischief. 

VI. Never, if you can possibly avoid it, speak 
any thing to the disadvantage of another. — The 
claims of justice or friendship may sometimes 
require you to speak what you know against 
others. You may be called to testify against 
their evil conduct in school, or before a court of 
justice ; or you may be called to warn a friend 
against an evil or designing person. But, where 
no such motive exists, it is far better to leave 
them to the judgment of others and of God, and 
say nothing against them yourself. 

VII. Keep your tongue from tale-bearing. — 
There is much said in the Scriptures against 
tattling. " Thou shalt not go up and down as a 



TALE-BEARING 197 

tale-bearer, among the children of thy people/' 
" A tale-bearer revealeth secrets." " Where no 
wood is, the fire goeth out ; and where there is 
no tale-bearer, the strife ceaseth." Young peo- 
ple are apt to imbibe a taste for neighborhood 
gossip, and to delight in possessing family se- 
crets, and in repeating personal matters, neigh- 
borhood scandal, &c. But the habit is a bad 
one. It depraves the taste and vitiates the char- 
acter, and often is the means of forming for life 
the vicious habit of tale-bearing. And tale-bear- 
ers, besides the great mischief they do, are al- 
ways despised, as mean, mischievous, and con- 
temptible characters. 

If you will attentively observe and follow the 
foregoing rules, you will acquire such a habit of 
governing the tongue, that it will be an easy 
matter ; and it will give dignity and value to 
your character, and make you beloved and es- 
teemed, as worthy the confidence of all. 
17* 



198 



CHAPTER XXV. 

ON THE ART OF AGREEABLE AND PROFITABLE 
CONVERSATION. 

There is, perhaps, no accomplishment which 
will add so much to your character and influ- 
ence, as the art of conversing agreeably and 
well. To do this, however, requires a cultivated 
mind, richly stored with a variety of useful in- 
formation : a good taste ; a delicate sense of pro- 
priety ; a good use of language ; and an easy 
and fluent expression. 

The most of these requisites can be acquired ; 
and the rest, if naturally deficient, can be greatly 
improved. An easy, fluent expression is some- 
times a natural talent ; but, when not joined with 
a good understanding and a cultivated mind, it 
degenerates into mere loquacity. But, in order 
to be prepared to converse well, you must not 
only have your mind well stored, but its con- 
tents, if I may so speak, well arranged; so that 
you can at any time call forth its resources, 
upon any subject, when they are needed. 

One of the principal difficulties, in the way of 



HESITANCY. 199 

conversing well, is a hesitancy of speech — a 
difficulty of expressing one's ideas with ease and 
grace. This may arise from various causes. It 
may proceed from affectation — a desire to speak 
in fine, showy .style. This will invariably defeat 
its object. You can never appear, in the eyes oi 
intelligent and well-bred people, to be what you 
are not. The more simple and unaffected your 
style is, provided it be pure and chaste, the bet 
ter you will appear. Affectation will only make 
you ridiculous. But the same difficulty may 
arise from diffidence, which leads to embarrass- 
ment ; and embarrassment clouds the memory, 
and produces confusion of mind and hesitancy 
of speech. This must be overcome by degrees, 
by cultivating self-possession, and frequenting 
good society. The same difficulty may, like- 
wise, arise from the want of a sufficient com- 
mand of language to express one's ideas with 
ease and fluency. This is to be obtained by 
writing; by reading the most pure and classic 
authors, such as Addison's Spectator ; and by 
observing the conversation of well-educated peo- 
ple. In order to have a good supply of well- 
chosen words at ready command, Mr. Whelpley 
recommends selecting from a dictionary several 
hundred words, such as are in most common 
use, and required especially in ordinary conver- 



200 ART OF CONVERSATIOxV. 

sation, writing them down, and committing the.m 
to memory, so as to have them as familiar as the 
letters of the alphabet. A professional gentle- 
man informs me, that he has overcome this dif- 
ficulty by reading a well-written story till it 
becomes trite and uninteresting, and then fre- 
quently reading it aloud, without any regard to 
the story, but only to the language, in order to 
accustom the organs of speech to an easy flow 
of words. I have no doubt that such experi- 
ments as these would be successful in giving a 
freedom and ease of expression, which is often 
greatly impeded for want of just the word that is 
needed at a given time. 

There is no species of information but may be 
available to improve and enrich the conversation, 
and make it interesting to the various classes 
of people. As an example of this, a clergyman 
recently informed me that a rich man, who is 
engaged extensively in the iron business, but 
who is very irreligious, put up with him for the 
night. The minister, knowing the character of 
his guest, directed his conversation to those sub- 
jects in which he supposed him to be chiefly 
interested. He exhibited specimens of iron ore, 
of which he possessed a variety ; explained their 
different qualities; spoke of the various modes 
of manufacturing it; explained the process of 



ART OF CONVERSATION. 201 

manufacturing steel, &c. ; interspersing his con- 
versation with occasional serious reflections on 
the wisdom and goodness of God, in providing 
so abundantly the metals most necessary for the 
common purposes of life, and thus leading the 
man's mind " from Nature up to Nature's God." 
The man entered readily into the conversation, 
appeared deeply interested, and afterwards ex- 
pressed his great admiration of the minister. 
The man was prejudiced against ministers. This 
conversation may so far remove his prejudices 
as to open his ear to the truth. But all this the 
minister was enabled to do, by acquainting him- 
self with a branch of knowledge which many 
would suppose to be of no use to a minister. 
By conversing freely with all sorts of people 
upon that which chiefly interests them, you may 
not only secure their good-will, but greatly in- 
crease you own stock of knowledge. There is 
no one so ignorant but he may, in this way, add 
something to your general information ; and you 
may improve the opportunity it gives to impart 
useful information, without seeming to do it 

RULES FOR CONVERSATION. 

I. Avoid affectation. — Instead of making you 
appear to better advantage, it will only expose 
you to ridicule. 



202 RULES FOR CONVERSATION. 

II. Avoid low expressions* — There is a dialect 
peculiar to low people, which you cannot imi- 
tate without appearing as if you were yourself 
low-bred. 

III. Avoid provincialisms. — There are certain 
expressions peculiar to particular sections of the 
country. For example, in New England, many 
people are in the habit of interlarding their con- 
versation with the phrase, " You see" In Penn- 
sylvania and New York, the same use is made 
of " You Jcnoiv. " And in the West and South, 
phrases peculiar to those sections of the country 
are still more common and ludicrous. Avoid all 
these expressions, and strive after a pure, chaste 
and simple style. 

IV. Avoid all ungrammatical expressions. 

V. Avoid unmeaning exclamations, as, "O 
my!" "O mercy!" &c. 

VI. Never speak unless you have something 
to say. — "A word fitly spoken is like apples of 
gold in pictures of silver." 

VII. Av o\di prolixity. — Make your language 
concise and perspicuous, and strive not to pro- 
long your speech beyond what is necessary, re- 
membering that others wish to speak as well as 
yourself. Be sparing of anecdote ; and only re- 
sort to it when you have a good illustration of 
some subject before the company, or when you 



STORY-TELLING. 203 

have a piece of information of general interest. 
To tell a story well, is a great art. To be te- 
dious and prolix in story-telling, is insufferable. 
To avoid this, do not attempt to relate every 
minute particular; but seize upon the grand 
points. Take the following specimen of the 
relation of the same incident by two different 
persons: — " You see, I got up this morning, 
and dressed myself, and came down stairs, and 
opened the front door ; and O, if it didn't look 
beautiful ! For, you see, the sun shone on the 
dew, — the dew, you know, that hangs in great 
drops on the grass in the morning. Well, as the 
sun shone on the dewdrops, it was all sparkling, 
like so many diamonds ; and it looked so in- 
viting, you see, I thought I must have a walk. 
So, you see, I went out into the street, and 
got over the fence, — the fence, you know, the 
back side of the barn. Well, I got over it, and 
walked into the grove, and there I heard the 
blue jay, and cock-robin, and ever so many pretty 
birds, singing so sweetly. I went along the 
foot-path to a place where there is a stump, — 
the great stump, you know, James, by the side 
of the path. Well, there, — O, my ! — what should 
I see, but a gray squirrel running up a tree ! " 

How much better the following : — " Early 
this morning, just as the sun was peeping over 



204 RULES FOR CONVERSATION. 

the hill, and the green grass was all over spar- 
kling with diamonds, as the sun shone upon the 
dewdrops, I had a delightful walk in the grove, 
listening to the sweet music of the birds, and 
watching the motions of a beautiful gray squir- 
rel, running up a tree, and hopping nimbly from 
branch to branch." Here is the story, better 
tolf 1 , in less than half the words. 

Never specify any particulars which would 
readily be understood without. In the relation 
of this incident, all the circumstances detailed 
in the first specimen, previous to entering the 
grove, are superfluous ; for if you were in the 
grove early in the morning, you could not 
get there without getting out of your bed, dress- 
ing yourself, opening the door, going into the 
street, and getting over the fence. The mo- 
ment you speak of being in the grove early in 
the morning, the mind of the hearer supplies all 
these preliminaries ; and your specifying them 
only excites his impatience to get at the point 
of your story. Be careful, also, that you never 
relate the same anecdote the second time to the 
same company ; neither set up a laugh at your 
own story. 

VIII. Never interrupt others while they are 
speaking. Quietly wait till they have finished 
what they have to say, before you reply. To 



RULES FOR CONVERSATION. 205 

interrupt others in conversation is very unman- 
nerly. 

IX. You will sometimes meet with very talk- 
ative persons, who are not disposed to give you 
a fair chance. Let them talk on. They will 
be better pleased, and you will save your words 
and your feelings. 

X. Avoid, as much as possible, speaking of 
| yourself. — When we meet a person who is 
i always saying /, telling what he has done, and 
| how he does things, the impression it gives us 
: of him is unpleasant. We say, " He thinks he 
I knows every thing, and can teach every body. 

I He is great in his own eyes. He thinks more 
, of himself than of every body else." True po- 
i liteness leads us to keep ourselves out of view, 
, and show an interest in other people's affairs. 
, XI. Endeavor to make your conversation 
I useful. — Introduce some subject which will be 
profitable to the company you are in. You 
feel dissatisfied when you retire from company 
where nothing useful has been said. But there 
j is no amusement more interesting, to a sensi- 
ble person, than intelligent conversation upon 
elevated subjects. It leaves a happy impression 
upon the mind. You can retire from it, and 
[lay your head upon your pillow with a quiet 
conscience 

18 



206 



CHAPTER XXVI 

INQUISITIVENESS. 

The inhabitants of New England have the 
reputation of being inquisitive to a fault; and 
perhaps with some justice. This disposition 
grows out of a good trait of character, carried 
to an extreme. It comes from a desire after 
knowledge. But this desire becomes excessive, 
when exercised with reference to matters which 
it does not concern us to know. When it leads 
us to pry into the concerns of others, from a 
mere vain curiosity, it becomes a vice. There 
are some people who can never be satisfied, till 
they see the inside of every thing. They must 
know the why and the wherefore of every thing 
they meet with. I have heard an amusing anecdote 
of this sort. There was a man who had lost his 
nose. A Yankee, seeing him, desired to know 
how so strange a thing had happened. After 
enduring his importunity for some time, the 
man declared he would tell him, if he would 
promise to ask him no more questions ; to which 
the other agreed. " Well," said the man, " it 



INQUISITIVENESS. 207 

was bit offP " Ah," replied the Yankee, " I 
wish I knew who bit it off! " This is a fair 
specimen of the morbid appetite created by ex- 
cessive inquisitiveness. 

When inquisitiveness goes no farther than a 
strong desire to obtain useful information, and 
to inquire into the reason of things, or when 
it desires information concerning the affairs of 
others from benevolent sympathy, then it is a 
valuable trait of character. But when the ob- 
ject is to gratify an idle curiosity, it is annoying 
to others, and often leads the person who in- 
dulges it into serious difficulty. And the more 
it is indulged, the more it craves. If you gratify 
this disposition till it grows into a habit, you 
will find it very difficult to control. You will 
never be able to let any thing alone. You will 
want to look into every drawer in the house; 
to open every bundle that you see ; and never 
be satisfied till you have seen the inside of every 
thing. This will lead you into temptation. It 
can hardly be supposed that one who is so anx- 
ious to see every thing should have no desire to 
possess the things that are seen. Thus, what 
began in curiosity may end in coveting and 
thieving. But if it does not lead you so far 
astray as this, it will bring you into serious diffi- 
culty with your parents, or your friends whose 



208 INQUISITIVENESS. 

guest you are ; for they will not be satisfied to 
have their drawers tumbled, packages opened, 
and every nice article fingered. This disposi- 
tion, too, will lead you to inquire into the secrets 
of your friends ; and this will furnish a temp- 
tation to tattling. What you have been at such 
pains to obtain, you will find it difficult to keep 
to yourself. You will want to share the rare 
enjoyment with others. And when the story 
comes round to your friend or companion, whose 
confidence you have betrayed, you will, to your 
great chagrin and mortification, be discarded. 
A delicate sense of propriety will lead you to 
avoid prying too closely into the affairs of others. 
You will never do it from mere curiosity. But 
if any of your friends so far make you a con- 
fidant as to lead you to suppose that they need 
your sympathy or aid, you may, in a delicate 
manner, inquire farther, in order to ascertain 
what aid you can render. You may, also, make 
some general inquiries of strangers, in order to 
show an interest in their affairs. But beyond 
this, you cannot safely indulge this disposition 



209 



CHAPTER XXVn. 

ON THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING ABLE TO 
SAY NO. 

It often requires great courage to say NO. 
But by being able promptly, on occasion, to 
utter this little monosyllable, you may save your- 
self a deal of trouble. If mother Eve had 
known how to say no, she might have saved 
herself and her posterity from ruin. And many 
of her children, who have lost their character and 
their all, might have been saved, if they had 
only had courage promptly to say NO. Your 
safety and happiness depend upon it. 

You are importuned by some of your com- 
panions to engage in some amusement, or to 
go on some excursion, which you know to be 
wrong. You resolutely and promptly say no 
at the outset, and there is the end of it. But 
if you hesitate, you will be urged and impor- 
tuned, until you will probably yield ; and hav- 
ing thus given up your own judgment, and vio- 
lated your conscience, you will lose your power 
of resistance, and yield to every enticement. 
18* 



210 SAYING NO. 

Jane has cultivated decision of character 
She never hesitates a moment, when any thing 
wrong is proposed. She rejects it instantly. 
The consequence is, her companions never think 
of coming to her with any proposal of an ex- 
ceptionable nature. Her prompt and decisive 
no they do not desire to encounter. Her parents 
can trust her any where, because they have 
no fears of her being led astray. And this re- 
lieves them of a load of anxiety. 

But Mary is the opposite of this. She wants 
to please every body, and therefore has not 
courage to say no to any. She seems to have 
no power to resist temptation. Hence, she is 
always getting into difficulty, — always doing 
something that she ought not, or going to some 
improper place, or engaging in some improper 
diversions, through the enticement of her com- 
panions. Her parents scarcely dare trust her 
out of their sight, they are so fearful that she 
will be led astray. She is a source of great 
anxiety to them ; and all because she cannot 
say NO. 

Now, let me beg of you to learn to say NO. 
If you find any difficulty in uttering it, — if your 
tongue won't do its office, or if you find a "frog in 
your throat" which obstructs your utterance, — 
go by yourself, and practise saying no, no, NO ! 



SAYING NO. 211 

till you can articulate clearly, distinctly, and 
without hesitation; and have it always ready 
on your tongue's end, to utter with emphasis to 
every girl or boy, man or woman, or evil spirit, 
that presumes to propose to you to do any thing 
that is wrong. Only be careful to say it respect- 
fully and courteously, with the usual prefixes and 
suffixes, which properly belong to the persons to 
whom you are speaking. 



212 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

ON BEING USEFUL. 

Can you find any thing, in all the works of 
Nature, which is not made for some use ? The 
cow gives milk, the ox labors in the field, the 
sheep furnishes wool for clothing, and all of 
them provide us with meat. The horse and the 
dog are the servants of man. Every animal, — 
every little insect, — has its place, and its work 
to perform, carrying out the great design of its 
Creator. And so it is with the inanimate crea- 
tion. The earth yields its products for the use 
of man and beast; and the sun, and the air, 
and the clouds, (each in turn,) help forward the 
work. And to how many thousand uses do we 
put the noble, stately tree ! It furnishes houses 
for us to live in, furniture for our convenience, 
fuel to make us warm, ships to sail in, and to 
bring us the productions of other lands. It 
yields us fruit for food, and to gratify our taste. 
And so you may go through all the variety of 
animal and vegetable life, and you will find every 
thing designed for some use. And, though 



ALL THINGS FOR USE. 213 

there may be some things of the use of which 
you are ignorant, yet you will find every thing 
made with such evidence of design, that you 
cannot help thinking it must have been intended 
for some use. 

Now, if every thing in creation is designed for 
some use, surely you ought not to think of being 
useless, or of living for nothing. God made you 
to be useful ; and, to answer the end of your 
being, you must begin early to learn to be use- 
ful. " But how can I be useful ? " you may ask. 
" I wish to be useful. I am anxious to be qual 
ified to fill some useful station in life, — to be a 
missionary or a teacher, or in some other way to 
do good. But I do not see what good I can do 
now." Though you may not say this in so 
many words, yet I have no doubt that such 
thoughts may often have passed through your 
mind. Many people long to be useful, as they 
suppose, but think they must be in some other 
situation, to afford them the opportunity. This 
is a great mistake. God, who made all crea- 
tures, has put every one in the right place. In 
the place where God has put you, there you may 
find some useful thing to do. Do you ask me 
what useful thing you can do ? Y j\i may find a 
hundred opportunities for doing good, and being 
useful, every day, if you watch for them. You 



214 BEING USEFUL. 

can be useful in assisting your mother ; you can 
be useful in helping your brothers and sisters; 
you can be useful in school, by supporting the 
authority of your teacher, and by being kind and 
helpful to your playmates. If you make it the 
great aim of your life to be useful, you will never 
lack opportunities. 

I have seen young persons, who would take 
great delight in mere play or amusement; but 
the moment they were directed to do any thing 
useful, they would be displeased. Now, I do 
not object to amusement, in its proper place ; for 
a suitable degree of amusement is useful to the 
health. But pleasure alone is a small object to 
live for ; and if you attempt to live only to be 
amused, you will soon run the whole round of 
pleasure, and become tired of it all. But if you 
make it your great object to be useful, and seek 
your chief pleasure therein, you will engage in 
occasional amusement with a double relish. No 
one can be happy who is not useful. Pleasure 
soon satiates. One amusement soon grows gray, 
and another is sought; till, at length, they all 
become tasteless and insipid. 

Let it be your object, then, every day of your 
life, to be useful to yourself and others. In the 
morning, ask yourself, " What useful things can 
I do to-day? What can I do that will be a last- 



BEING USEFUL. 215 

ing benefit to myself? How can I make myself 
useful in the family? What can I do for my 
father or mother? What for my brothers or 
sisters ? And what disinterested act can I per- 
form for the benefit of those who have no claim 
upon met" Thus you will cultivate useful 
habits and benevolent feelings. And you will 
find a rich return into your own bosom. By 
making yourself useful to every body, you will 
find every one making a return of your kind- 
ness. You will secure their friendship and good 
will, as well as their bounty. You will find it, 
then, both for your interest and happiness to 
BE USEFUL. 



216 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

ON BEING CONTENTED. 

The true secret of happiness is, to be content- 
ed. " Godliness," says the apostle Paul, " with 
contentment, is great gain." These two are 
great gain, because, without them, all the gain 
in the world will not make us happy. Young 
people are apt to think, if they had this thing or 
that, or if they were in such and such circum- 
stances, different from their own, they would be 
happy. Sometimes they thinkj if their parents 
were only rich, they should enjoy themselves. 
But rich people are often more anxious to in- 
crease their riches than poor people are to be 
rich; and the more their artificial wants are 
gratified, the more they are increased. " The. 
eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled 
with hearing." Solomon was a great king, so 
rich that he was able to get whatever his heart 
desired. He built great palaces for himself; he 
filled them with servants ; he treasured up gold 
and silver; he bought gardens, and vineyards, 
and fields ; he bought herds of cattle, with horses 



BEING CONTENTED. 



217 



and carriages ; he kept men and women singers, 
and players on all sorts of instruments; what- 
ever his eyes desired he kept not from them ; he 
withheld not his heart from any joy ; but with it 
all he was not satisfied. He called it all " van- 
ity and vexation of spirit." So you may set 
your heart at rest, that riches will not make you 
happy. Nor would you be any more happy, if 
you could exchange places with some other per- 
sons, who seem to you to have many more means 
of enjoyment than yourself. With these things 
that dazzle your eyes, they have also their trials; 
and if you take their place, you must take the 
bitter with the sweet. 

But young people sometimes think, if they 
were only men and women, and could manage 
for themselves, and have none to control them, 
then they would certainly be happy, for they 
could do as they please. But in this they are 
greatly mistaken. There will then be a great 
increase of care and labor; and they will find it 
more difficult to do as they phase than they do 
now. If they have none to control them, they 
will have none to provide for them. True, they 
may then manage for themselves ; but they will 
also have to support themselves. Those who 
have lived the longest, generally consider youth 
the happiest period of life, because it is com- 
19 



218 BEING CONTENTED. 

paratively free from trouble and care, and there 
is more time for pleasure and amusement. 

But there is one lesson, which, if you will 
learn it in youth, will make you happy all your 
days. It is the lesson which Paul had learned. 
You know that he suffered great hardships in 
travelling on foot, in various countries, to preach 
the gospel. He was often persecuted, reviled, 
defamed, beaten, and imprisoned. Yet he says, 
" I have learned in whatsoever state I am, there- 
with to be content" There are several things 
which should teach us this lesson. In the first 
place, God, in his holy providence, has placed 
us in the condition where we are. He knows 
what is best for us, and what will best serve 
the end for which he made us ; and of all other 
situations, he has chosen for us the one that 
we now occupy. Who could choose so well 
as he? And then, what can we gain by fret- 
ting about it, and worrying ourselves for what 
we cannot help? We only make ourselves un- 
happy. Moreover, it is very ungrateful and 
wicked to complain of our lot, since God has 
given us more and better than we deserve. It is 
better to look about us, and see how many things 
we have to be thankful for ; to look upon what we 
have, rather than what we have not. This does 
not, indeed, forbid our seeking to improve our 



BEING CONTENTED. 219 

condition, provided we do it with submission to 
the will of God. We ought to use all fair and 
lawful means to this end; but not in such a 
spirit of discontent and repining, as will make 
us miserable if we are disappointed. If you 
desire to be happy, then, BE CONTENTED. 



220 



CHAPTER XXX. 

UNION OF SERIOUS PIETY WITH HABITUAL 
CHEERFULNESS. 

It is a mistake often made by young people, 
to associate religion with a downcast look, a sad 
countenance, and an aching heart. Perhaps the 
mistakes of some good people, in putting on a 
grave and severe aspect, approaching even to 
moroseness, may have given some occasion for 
this sentiment. I do not know, indeed, how 
prevalent the sentiment is among the young. I 
can hardly think it is common with those who 
are religiously educated. As for myself, I well 
remember that, in my childhood, I thought true 
Christians must be the happiest people in the 
world. There is no doubt, however, that many 
pleasure-loving young people do look upon re- 
ligion with that peculiar kind of dread which 
they feel of the presence of a grave, severe maid- 
en aunt, which would spoil all their pleasure 
And, I do not deny, that there are certain kinds 
of pleasure which religion spoils ; but then it 
first removes the taste and desire for them, after 



CHEERFUL PIETY. 221 

which the spoliation is nothing to be lamented. 
It is true, also, that there are some things in 
religion which are painful. Repentance for sin 
is a painful exercise ; self-denial is painful ; the 
resistance of temptation is sometimes trying ; and 
the subduing of evil dispositions is a difficult 
work. But, to endure whatever of suffering 
there is in these things, is a saving in the end. 
It is less painful than the tortures of a guilty 
conscience, the gnawings of remorse, and the 
fear of hell. It is easier to be endured than 
the consequences of neglecting religion. If 
you get a sliver in your finger, it is easier to 
bear the pain of having it removed, than it is 
to carry it about with you. If you have a de- 
cayed tooth, it is easier to have it extracted than 
to bear the toothache. So it is easier to repent 
of sin than to bear remorse and fear. And the 
labor of resisting temptation, and of restraining 
and subduing evil dispositions, is not so great 
an interference with one's happiness as it is to 
carry about a guilty conscience. 

There is, however, nothing in true piety in- 
consistent with habitual cheerfulness. There 
is a difference between cheerfulness and levity. 
Cheerfulness is serene and peaceful. Levity is 
light and trifling. The former promotes even- 
ness of temper and equanimity of enjoyment ; 
19* 



222 CHEERFUL PIETY. 

the latter drowns sorrow and pain for a short 
time, only to have it return again with redoubled 
power. 

The Christian hope, and the promises and 
consolations of God's word, furnish the only 
true ground of cheerfulness. Who should be 
cheerful and happy, if not one who is delivered 
from the terrors of hell and the fear of death, — 
who is raised to the dignity of a child of God, — 
who has the hope of eternal life — the prospect 
of dwelling forever in the presence of God, in 
the society of the blessed, and in the enjoy- 
ment of perfect felicity ? But no one would as- 
sociate these things with that peculiar kind of 
mirth, which is the delight of the pleasure-lov- 
ing world. Your sense of propriety recoils from 
the idea of associating things of such high im- 
port with rudeness, frolicking, and mirth. Yet 
there is an innocent gayety of spirits, arising 
from natural vivacity, especially in the period 
of childhood and youth, the indulgence of 
which, within proper bounds, religion does not 
forbid. 

There is a happy medium between a settled, 
severe gravity and gloom, and frivolity, levity, 
and mirth, which young Christians should strive 
to cultivate. If you give unbounded license to 
a mirthful spirit, and indulge freely in all man- 



CHEERFUL PIETY. 228 

ner of levity, frivolity, and foolish jesting, you 
cannot, maintain that devout state of heart which 
is essential to true piety. On the other hand, 
if you studiously repress the natural vivacity oi 
youthful feeling, and cultivate a romantic kind 
of melancholy, or a severe gravity, you will 
destroy the elasticity of your spirits, injure your 
health, and very likely become peevish and irri- 
table, and of a sour, morose temper ; and this 
will be quite as injurious to true religious feel- 
ing as the other. The true medium is, to unite 
serious piety with habitual cheerfulness, Al- 
ways bring Christian motives to bear upon your 
feelings. The gospel of Jesus Christ has a 
remedy for every thing in life that is calculated 
to make us gloomy and sad. It offers the par- 
don of sin to the penitent and believing, the 
aid of grace to those that struggle against 
an evil disposition, and succor and help against 
temptation. It promises to relieve the believer 
from fear, and afford consolation in affliction. 
There is no reason why a true Christian should 
not be cheerful. There are, indeed, many 
things, which he sees, within and without, that 
must give him pain. But there is that in his 
Christian hope, and in the considerations 
brought to his mind from the Word of God, 
which is able to bear him high above them all 



224 CHEERFUL PIETY. 

Let me, then, earnestly recommend you to cul- 
tivate a serious but cheerful piety. Let your 
religion be neither of that spurious kind which 
expends itself in sighs, and tears, and gloomy 
feelings, nor that which makes you insensible 
to all feeling. But while you are alive to your 
own sins and imperfections, exercising godly 
sorrow for them, and while you feel a deep and 
earnest sympathy for those who have no interest 
in Christ, let your faith in the atoning blood 
of Jesus, and your confidence in God, avail to 
keep you from sinking into melancholy and 
gloom, and make you cheerful and happy, while 
you rest in God. 

And now, gentle reader, after this long con- 
versation, I must take leave of you, commend- 
ing you to God, with the prayer that my book 
may be useful to you, in the formation of a 
well-balanced Christian character ; and that, 
after you and I shall have done the errand for 
which the Lord sent us into the world, we may 
meet in heaven. GOD BLESS YOU ! 



i63 










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